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iamasaddie · 6 months

Text

if I'm still alive, my regrets are few

PIMP!Joel masterlist

paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader

rating: explicit

word count: 6k

summary: still scared of what's to come your brain comes up with an unexpected escape plan, that forses you to learn things about yourself

warnings (for the chapter): FonF 69 (thank you @milla-frenchy for the inspiration and prompt), oral m receiving, fingering, questionable sex positions but it works in my head; light praise kink; light dirty talk, Tess is a queen

a/n: wow, it's here, isn't it? i can't believe my eyes. un-betaed, finished at midnight, i will come back to edit if there are any magor mistakes i didn't see on my fifth reread. hope you enjoy it, don't forget to leave a comment!

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

“Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of the burning food hit your nose and you ran out of the bathroom, hands covered in soapy foam up to your elbows. When you left Joel last night, it was with the heavy burden of guilt. You knew you shouldn’t have done that, yet you did it anyway and now you faced the consequences. Joel had more than every right to be angry with you, but you felt that nagging pang, that someone was rightfully mad at you, that he was mad at you, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You've been tossing and turning all night, expecting for Joel to show his face like he did the first night, but it looked like sex made him less of a light sleeper. Unable to find calmness in unconsciousness, you got up, making up your mind.

Obviously, you couldn't take what you did back, and you'd already said you were sorry, but you thought you could go an extra step, do something nice for Joel. If not to mend your relationship, then to at least make sure he wouldn't give you five clients in one day.

You shuddered.

You made peace with yourself, praying, meditating, and just turning off your brain accepting that the day had finally come. You knew that you learned enough to be a decent birdie, even though your confidence was still lacking. Sometimes you thought that you had some kind of a know-at-all syndrome, like you needed to know everything and maybe more to finally walk with you head up. Shaking your head, you sighed, there was no way Joel would spend any more of his time on you, he made that clear, but at least you could part on good terms.

That was how you ended up flooding his small bathroom with foam caused by using too much detergent, and burning the eggs you decided to make for breakfast at the same time.

You hurried to take the smoking pan off the stove, but the handle was too hot so you ended up dropping it barely escaping your feet.

“What the hell's goin' on?” Joel's groggy voice was not a surprise, yet you hoped you'd have some time to clean up. Plastering the sweetest smile you could manage, you looked up at him.

“Good morning, Joel, I made breakfast!”

He looked at your feet where the pan was still smoking, eggs burned to a crispy black edge, and raised his eyebrows. “If that's a good mornin', I'm afraid to ask what a bad one looks like.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, you seem to say that a lot.” He clenched his jaw and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks and bringing some color to them. “Can you fix that? I'll go wash up. We’ve got a long day.”

You just nodded, squatting to get the pan. The burnt smell made your eyes water, and you hurried to drop it in the sink, throwing away the egg remnants and filling the pan with water.

Water.

“What the fuck happened in the bath?!”

Fuck.

You pushed reheated yesterday’s dinner around your plate, every piece of food sticking to your throat, making it almost impossible to swallow. Joel in front of you didn’t seem to have such a problem. When he finished shoveling down the last bits of breakfast - both of you kept the space around you drenched in silence - he moved the plate away and leaned back on the chair. He tilted his head to the side a little, scratching the spot where the hair was missing on his outgrown stubble.

“Nervous?” His voice startled you, and you dropped the fork on the table creating more irritating noise.

“Nah,” you tried to brush off, but he looked at you intently, and you gave up. “Yeah, a lot.”

Joel nodded like he wasn’t expecting any other answer, he dropped his hand from his face and placed both of them on the table, hands in fists but not tense. “Don’t be.” He said simply, and you wanted to laugh at his ignorance. Like it was him that was going to sell his body to strangers. “You’re a good girl, have a good cunt. You’ll be just fine.”

You choked on air hearing his compliment but still mumbled thanks, not really convinced by his words. Joel let out a long breath, patting his stomach with one hand with the other still on the table.

“What are you nervous about?”

It was the longest conversation you had in the last three days, and you felt kind of grateful. Even if he didn’t really show it, you knew he’d just leave you wallowing in terror if at least a tiny bit of him didn’t care about you. That made you feel warm inside. Perhaps a burnt breakfast and half washed laundry was a key to a man’s heart.

“I don’t think I know…” you started slowly, trying to find the right words inside your brain. “I don’t know everything I need to know. Like,” a couple dozens of examples ran through your mind but you landed on the least helpful one. “What was the weirdest thing a client asked?”

Joel raised his brows, dark brown pools hidden under them looked at you with wonder. Clearly, he didn’t expect that. He sat up straighter, while still trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

“We’re not some… fetish club. Everything that happens at ‘Eden’ is pretty classical. Maybe…”

He stopped himself, and that only grabbed your attention more. You leaned on the table, as if moving closer to Joel would make him speak. Your bones were trembling with all the ideas your brain provided. How bad was it? Did they hang people up with hooks? Could clients cut you for the right price? Were they allowed to shove stuff in your? Your pussy clenched in fear.

“What?” You heard your voice tremble, already wound up from your own thoughts.

“I dunno,” Joel shrugged his shoulders and swiped his thumb over his brow, making the hairs stick out a little. “Sometimes women come and ask for a girl. But I wouldn’t call it weird. It’s still sex.”

For a moment you felt the weight of the world dropping from your shoulders. If woman on woman was the weirdest thing happening in that place, it was far from Sodom and Gomorrah playing out in your head. But as soon as relief came it was washed away.

“Wait, women?”

Joel nodded simply. “What, you have a problem with that?”

“No, I…” Fuck. You had just learned what sex was like with a man, and here you were, going somewhere where you needed to be Devil’s favorite call girl, who knew the tricks and secrets. And it wasn’t the fact that there could be women in your bed that was making you nervous, it was the fear of being unable to give them pleasure. The thought of an exasperated sigh followed by a condescending ‘it’s okay, sweetie’ in a fake, almost synthetic female voice in your head made you shiver. “I don’t know.”

“You don't know if you’re okay with having sex with a woman?” You kept your silence, not even able to give the answer to yourself, let alone Joel. But he kept giving ideas, followed by bright even if blurred pictures in your mind. “What if there’s a threesome? A client, you and one of my other girls?”

Now it was just getting scarier and scarier. It was one thing to disappoint just one woman, but to have an audience?

“No, I mean… I think I’m okay with having sex with women, I just never did, so I don’t think I can…” You tried to explain yourself, failing miserably. “It’s easier with men, you’re pretty basic in your pleasure.”

Joel barked out a laugh and you couldn’t ignore the warm twitch of your heart. You liked it when he laughed, he had a very special rasp to it, and he did it so rarely that you learned to treasure it.

“Week ago you couldn’t speak about sex without flustering, and now you’re what, dick whisperer?”

“I don't mean..-”

“I know what you mean. It's okay, I won't send you girls, yet.”

“Or maybe…”

An idea punched you in the head like a bright light early in the morning. Here it was, your salvation. Or, at least, postponement. You didn’t let yourself dwell on it, scared that you’d back up immediately, but as if Joel read your mind he tugged the words out of you with a simple question.

“Yes?”

“If you're fine with that… Maybe you could invite one of your birds over? To… to practice? The more I know the more money you'll get, no?”

You were scared to raise your eyes to meet Joels, instead studying all the ways you could bend your fingers this and that way. That was until you heard Joel’s chair creaking, and he took the similar position as you, with his elbows on the table, his head leaning to you so close that you almost touched.

“What has gotten into you, hm?” He whispered incredulously, you heard amusement in his voice. “Are you becoming a little nympho?”

“A whompho?”

You raised your head, your eyes immediately caught in the honey trap of his. He studied you for a while, and then got out the table, the chair legs screeching against the wooden floor. You didn’t move, just followed him with your eyes as he got dressed and prepared to leave the apartment.

“Clean up in here, we're having a guest over tonight.”

Your arms and knees were sore when you finished cleaning up. Taking in the results of your work you smiled proudly, the floors were clean, the blankets were folded, and it even almost stopped smelling like burnt eggs. You wanted to stretch on the couch, but were afraid that you’d fall asleep again, so you opted for sitting at the table, counting the little cracks in the old wood. Time was passing torturously slowly and you jumped at every sound you heard. But amidst the lingering anxiety, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You tried to imagine how your evening would go, thinking about who Joel would bring and if he’d participate himself, and instead of being terrified at the idea of another woman in your bed, you felt arousal painting your panties.

A woman, just like you. Soft, gentle, complicated. Beautiful. Your mouth salivated. What would it feel like to kiss lips that are so similar to yours, what would you experience if you dive into the wetness of someone else’s pussy, bringing them pleasure like you learned to bring it to yourself.

You never thought about this aspect of yourself. Never had an opportunity to fully explore your attractions, so you just went with something that was automatically given, but now, you were thrilled. This whole experience became something way more important for you than you expected in the first place, you didn’t know if you were happy or terrified.

You heard the key turning in the lock, two pairs of boots stepping inside the apartment followed by two voices: one you knew intimately, and the other you didn’t know at all. Your heart raced as you stood up, caught between anticipation and anxiety.

A woman walked in, her eyes landing on you immediately. You tried saying hello, but the words stuck in your throat and you just stared back. She was gorgeous. Easily older than you, her eyes bearing more intellect and experience than you thought you could gather your whole life. She gave you a once over, stopping at your bare legs, covered to the mid-thigh by the t-shirt you borrowed.

Joel followed her into the kitchen and as soon as he stepped inside, you felt like you could breathe. Like everything was under control now.

“So,” the woman in front of you didn’t look very interested in anything besides you, her eyes watching your every twitch and tremor. She was calm, her voice quiet but strong. “You’re the famous rabbit, huh?”

You saw Joel tense up, the knuckles of his clenched fists became wide, and he looked at the woman with something like warning, which she ignored plopping down on a chair and taking his untouched cup of coffee from the table, the only thing you were afraid to pour out knowing how attached the man was to his caffeine.

You didn’t know you were famous already. Did that mean Joel was advertising you or something? Your cheeks burned. The woman in front of you was intimidating. No more than Joel, but intimidating nonetheless. It sent an unexpected shiver downpour spine and straight to your core. There was something undeniably sexy about her, you didn’t even wonder why Joel chose her for what you were about to do. She was still looking at you like she was expecting an answer, even though it was quite obvious. You nodded your head, coming closer and sitting down next to her.

“Guess I am.” You put your hand on the table, and soon after saw the woman letting go of Joel’s cup and placing her still hot palm on top of your, gently brushing over your knuckles while still looking into your eyes.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Tess.”

Tess, the sound of her name was like a whisper, like a delicious hiss of meat on a hot pan, something that made your heart race, and your cunt clench.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Tess.” You loved tasting her name on your tongue, her hand soft and warm around yours. You didn’t lie, it really was nice to meet her.

“You seem a little frightened, little rabbit,” she tilted her head, finding your eyes and smiling at you. “Did this big old dog scare you?”

She didn’t need to point at Joel for you to know who she meant. You shook your head, embarrassment heating up your neck.

“Then what is it, baby? You can tell Tess, I swear I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

“I just never, I…” You looked at Joel, and Tess did the same.

“Joel, can you leave us for a moment?”

You looked at Joel, taking in his form. His brooding form was still as a constipated statue, his jaw tense, you could almost hear his teeth grinding. He didn’t look at you, instead staring Tess in the eyes, as if communicating wordlessly. She handled his look without batting an eye.

“Tess…”

There was warning in his voice. You’ve heard it before once, but you still got the shivers running down your spine. Tess, on the other hand, remained unaffected, waving him off.

“Us girls need to chat. We’ll meet you in the room.” She vaguely pointed towards where his room was, and gave him a little smile before whispering sultry, “get naked, Daddy.”

You furrowed your brows at the nickname she gave him, something pinching your insides, but you shook the feeling off, turning your attention back to Tess. You didn’t know how she did it, but Joel listened to her, barely nodding and retreating to his room.

“Men, right?” She huffed, taking one of your hands in both of hers and squeezing. “So, rabbit, why you tremblin’?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Somehow it was easier to admit that to her. Maybe because she was a woman, or because she looked at you with such warmth that you took a chance trusting her.

“Does anyone?” Tess leaned back on the chair, still keeping one of your hands between hers. The gesture made you at ease, like she was taking all the stress away with a gentle brush of her thumbs.

You smiled, lowering your head a little. She did not look like a stupid woman, but you still decided to elaborate. “No, I mean like in bed, I don’t know what I’m doing in bed.”

“Again, does anyone?” Tess shrugged her shoulders. "Baby, sex ain’t math, you can’t have a perfect algorithm to make every encounter you have a hundred percent success.”

Unbelievable. She was fucking unbelievable. The look in the woman’s eyes didn’t change a bit when you bared your insecurities to her. You were no-one to Tess, maybe you were even a pain in the ass since Joel clearly took her here to ‘work’, and yet there was nothing that gentle care and understanding falling from her lips. Like she was afraid to hurt you, to scare you off. Such a strong-looking, intimidating woman with a confident stride and a sharp wit, and yet she handled you with such delicacy.

“Look, yes, we obviously have pleasure spots, kinks, fetishes that get us off without a fail, but you can only learn that with a partner. Someone who’s either open and loud about everything, or someone that has been with you for a long time. There’s no shortcut to a perfect sexual experience.”

You admired her ability to effortlessly navigate the sensitive topic with grace and honesty. In that moment she reminded you of Joel. She was telling you everything you were dying to hear, and still the nagging itch of hesitance disturbed your feelings. “But what if I mess up? Men are so much easier, you stroke their dick and they cum, easy peasy.”

“Don’t tell that to Joel,” she laughed quietly as you continued.

“Women are…”

Tess didn’t let you finish, softly slapping one of her hands on top of yours. “You know what, let me take the lead today, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t exactly know how to take what she was offering.

“I mean,” Tess leaned into you, your lips almost touching, “I am going to bury my face in your gorgeous pussy and show you all the right moves, and then you can do the same to me, okay?”

“I..” You licked your lips, your breathing speeding up.

“I take that as a yes.”

Tess stood up, not letting your hand out, and tugged you closer to her. You felt the heady, raw smell of her, mixed with something woody, almost like Joel. She dragged you towards Joel’s room, her arm around your waist keeping you close.

You stopped right before she opened the door.

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Sure, baby.”

“Why are you… doing this?”

“That’s a story for another time, little one.” Her eyes gloomed over with something that contradicted her confident smile. You didn’t need her telling you the who’s and why’s to know that this was not her first choice. For the first time you felt sick from being right. You didn’t want to be right, not with her. Not with this woman that calmed you down with one flirty smile, that looked at you like you were worth something. Like you were worth a lot. She placed her warm palm on your cheek, brushing your cheekbone with her finger and making you look back at her. “But it’s not as bad as it might look. And Joel, he cares. He really does.”

She didn’t wait anymore, opening the door and dragging you with her.

You realized that nerves and anxiety got the best of you when Tess closed the door behind you both, and gently shoved you towards Joel, who was already sitting naked on the made up bed, stroking his half hard cock lazily. The look of his massive hand going up and down the intimately familiar to you shaft was the last thing you could remember before giving your body off to Tess to deal with it how she deemed worthy.

She was gentle with you, undressing you both piece by piece, and then guiding you on the bed and laying down, completely ignoring Joel with his back to you. You were quiet, both of you, letting your bodies do the work.

“Don’t be shy, baby, let yourself go,” Tess whispered, before claiming you trembling lips with hers, and placing your hands on her soft breasts, her hands on top of yours and squeezing.

Oh, what a new feeling it was. She was all tender flesh and soft moans as your bodies started grinding against each other. At one point she tugged you on top of her, making you straddle her hips as your wetness became one mixture of pleasure and excitement. There was no shame, there was no awkwardness, just raw desire to give. Give more, more, more, hear her moaning louder and sweeter in your ears. Tugging on the long silky strands of her hair as her fingers found your heat without question, letting you know what a woman could do to you. How unique and unforgettable her touch could be.

You felt hers coming up to your eyes, pleasure and gratitude overwhelming you as Tess plunged two of her fingers inside of your drenched pussy, but they couldn’t leave your eyes as she kissed them away. You swiped your nose along hers, closing your eyes and for the first time initiating the sweet kiss between you.

“It’s all good, but we aren’t making love here, birdies.”

Joel’s voice was loud as a slap in an empty room. With Tess under you, in you, you completely forgot that the man was in the room, and he seemed to notice that. You tried to turn your head and look at him, but Tess grabbed your cheeks, still sealing your lips together even if for a moment. She let you go with a wet swipe of her tongue on your lower lip, “your lips are delicious, baby, but let me taste that beautiful cunt. Turn around and sit on my face.”

"What?” You whispered back in shock, not sure if Joel should hear what you say or not.

"Do as I say, okay? Be a good girl for me.”

You nodded dumbly. At that moment you wanted to be everything Tess could ever want, so if she wanted you to be on her face, who you were to say no.

You fought the awkwardness you felt as you took the position as fast as you could, immediately ending up on the same level with the woman’s pussy. You felt weird, crowding her head with your thighs, not exactly sure what you were supposed to do next, but Tess took the lead, roping your legs with her arms and practically shoving your face in her pussy, making you almost lay on her with your whole weight.

She didn’t wait for a signal, or a command from Joel, diving in your wetness eagerly, like it was her second nature, and - oh fuck - maybe it was her first.

You could barely contain the sweet moans as Tess let her lips wander and nip at your soft folds, swiping her tongue deep inside you before pulling out and gently circling your clit. She was less hungry, but more determined, perfectly aware of every little spot that made you twitch and shake.

With her tangy smell invading your senses, you didn’t even need to make a decision before tentatively sliding your own tongue through her leaking core. Apparently, what you thought was awkward, felt absolutely different for Tess because you felt her moan deep inside you before you could hear it. “Go on, baby, just like that.” She said, before giving each of your thighs a small bite and returning her attention back on your pussy. You didn’t need to be told twice, as you returned to your caresses, trying to replicate everything Tess did to you. When she plunged her tongue deep in your entrance, you greedily gulped down her arousal, when she sucked on your clit, repeatedly swiping the tip of her tongue up and down over your bud, you made sure that you gave her the same attention.

Either you were less sensitive, or she was more turned on, but as you brought two of your hands beneath her asscheeks, squeezing them and trying to press her glistening cunt harder in your face, what you could swear looked like you were trying to eat her alive, Tess started shaking, her movements on your pussy coming to a halt as her back arched up, lifting you both up.

Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful sound it was, you thought to yourself, still trying to lick up every drop of her that she left on your lips.

You felt the bed dip, and then someone’s hand lifting your head up by your hair.

“Good job, now you get a treat.”

“What?” Of course it wasn’t just someone, it was Joel, the man of whose existence you completely forgot as every part of your mind and body was dedicated to make a woman beneath you feel as much pleasure as you could. But he was always there, standing as a shadow, leaning on a wall with his hands tight in his fists, and his cock furious with arousal and untouched.

Now that same cock was centimeters away from your puffy lips, still glistening with Tess’ cum.

"You worked Tess beautifully, so let’s play out a scenario when you also have a man in the room. You wanted to learn, right?"

You could barely understand what he was saying, but with the woman’s lips back on your pussy and working you up to your orgasm vigorously, nothing looked more attractive than Joel’s cock in your mouth. The thought of his cum mixing with her in your mouth made you let out another stream of arousal and Tess hummed in your entrance.

You placed your hands on Joel’s hips, changing your position a little, but still straddling the woman’s face as he guided his cock in your waiting mouth.

“Fu-uck,” he exhaled, as you tried to shove as much of him as you could inside your mouth and moaned as his salty taste complemented the one of Tess’. Almost on autopilot, you hollowed your cheeks, saliva and cum that coated your lips made the glide of your mouth easier, and you fell into a perfect dance, as Tess fucked your hole with her tongue, and Joel fucked your mouth with his cock.

It was deliciously heavy and throbbing on your tongue, filling up the limited space of your mouth and inching down to tease the back of your throat with the fat head.

"What a perfect little whore, just fucking - God, you’re so greedy for my cock, just my cock, nothing else matters, baby.” You were delusional, every cell of your body screaming and itching, every pore electrifying as you felt Joel grab your throat with his wide palm and taking all the control from you. His cock relentlessly fucked into your heat, his words slurred and understood only by him, like he was just unable to keep his mouth shut.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby, feel your little throat real good, I know how bad you want it, saw you salivating over me, fuck, fuck, take it, just take it, baby.” His movements became erratic as his cock burst deep inside your throat. Just as you predicted, his salty, slightly bitter taste was a perfect combination for Tess’ honey still clinging to your palette. You didn’t expect Joel to cum so fast, when you were still on the verge of orgasm yourself, but you couldn’t complain. The man was the solution to your pleasure, the discovery you still tried to ignore, and now it was just one little lick, one suck from those skillful lips, and you felt you would - -

“That’s enough.” Joel’s voice was barely loud enough to pierce through the moans that continued leaving your opened mouth, and the deafening rush of your blood as Tess continued sloppily slurping on your pussy, shoving her tongue in your sensitive hole just to make you beg and whimper. Joel’s hand grabbed your head that you lowered as soon as he slid his softening dick out, and he yanked it up, making you look at him. His eyes concentrated on a drop of his cum that managed to escape your lips. He swiped his thumb and shoved it inside your open mouth, not reacting when you bit at it with your teeth while also licking the last remnants of him off. “I fucking said stop, Tess.”

Surprisingly to you, she listened. Her mouth unlatched from your puffy, glistening cunt, and you heard her smack her lips, saying nothing.

“No-no-no,” you started whining, Joel’s finger pressing on your tongue made the words slurred. You were so close, you knew, a couple more licks from Tess and you’d spray her face with your cum. You looked at Joel with confusion and anger.

He ignored the daggers from you, released his finger from your mouth furrowing his brows when you grazed his skin with your top teeth too hard, and patted Tess in her thigh. “You can go, birdie.”

“What? But I didn’t get to..-” you were interrupted by Tess gently pushing you off herself and you fell in your ass, body still buzzing with the undelivered orgasm. Tess made a quick work of her clothes, the woman got dressed even faster than undressed, and the look of curiosity that painted her face when she looked at Joel didn’t escape your attention. As she finished buttoning up, she came back to the bed where you were still naked, silent, and confused. Her soft hand caressed your cheek, and she lowered herself to be in the same face level with you.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna be fine.” She sealed her words with a gentle kiss, that you could barely feel on your lips.

As soon as the door behind her closed, you turned to Joel, staring him dead in the eyes. Was it his way of torturing you? “Why didn’t you let me cum?”

“We talked about it already on your first night, sometimes the client won’t be able to make you cum. Most of the time they won’t. But you still need to enjoy the process, you know. At the end of the day what’s more important is that your client comes, and both of yours did.”

“But she could make me come, Joel. You just stopped her!” You felt the boiling frustration overwhelm your senses, your hands twitched with violent intentions. You wanted to slap him right across his smug face.

“Could, couldn’t. It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.”

He shrugged his shoulders, absolutely comfortable in his nakedness, his dick soft but still impressing and glistening from your saliva.

“Fucking great, just absolutely fuckin’ royal shit.” You shuffled from the bed, ripping the sheets you tugged over yourself to cover your nakedness and stomping on the way out of the room.

“Where are you going?” You turned back to look at Joel, he still didn’t move, but he didn’t smile anymore, instead he looked almost… disappointed?

“I am going to shove whatever you have in your freezer up my pussy, because this,” you vaguely pointed at your lower region, “is just painful.”

“Don’t you want to come?”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Not yet.”

Fucking Joel, with his fucking riddles and his fucking confidence and that stupid fucking dimple when he smiles at you like that.

“What’s the point of this lesson if you let me come then?” You still didn’t hide neither anger nor frustration from your voice, but this time they were accompanied by curiosity.

“The lesson is pretty simple, if you don’t get to come with your client, you can always come to me,” Joel pointed at himself, and it should’ve looked ridiculous with his naked state, but it didn’t, and it pissed you off, but more so it turned you on. “And I’ll help you as soon as you ask.”

“Will you help me?” You took a few steps towards him, already feeling arousal wetting the skin between your thighs.

“Told ya, just need to ask me that’s all.”

His eyes were fixed on you, seeing every move, and you already knew the hunger inside them. You didn’t need to ask, he would still give it to you. But you still played his game.

“Please, Joel, ” you placed your hands on his naked chest, letting the sheet you held as a cover drop on the floor, and your thumbs stroked his nipples, “make me cum.”

Joel almost shoved you back to the bed, hovering above you, bracketing you with his arms and thighs. You took one look

“Just like the first time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing the shell of it with his words, “you’re even more riled up now.” Two of his fingers teased your swollen, almost raw from all the abuse clit, and then slowly sank in your pulsing wet entrance. “Bet it’ll only take a couple of strokes.”

You both hated and loved that he was right. You were right there, and Joel’s thick fingers filling you up more than four of Tess’ could just made you wanton. Mad with desire and pleasure he so freely gave to you, you soon became bouncing on his fingers yourself, trying to shove them deeper, trying to feel that sting that ruined you the first time.

“Come on, baby, I feel her squeezing me, she’s so close, let her go, let her cum, she wants it so bad,” he whispered in your neck, tasting the sweat that already covered your body.

“Please, please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for, your mind foggy with pleasure, pain, need, every little thing overwhelming your senses. You felt a sharp, stinging bite on your neck and that served as the last button, pushing you over and soaking Joel’s hand along with his sheets. Your moans overflowed his soft praise, and you didn’t feel the barely-there kiss he let himself leave in the middle of the throbbing bite mark.

“Am I your birdie now?” You felt weird sensations laying in his bed together. The intimacy of staying so close, the mix of sweat from your bodies mixed on your skin, when you’re not actually having sex felt raw and you hurried to sprinkle it with reality.

“Nah,” Joel lifted himself up on one elbow and leaned over you to grab a dozen cigarettes tied together by a rubber and a pack of matches. He laid back down, tugged one cigarette out and lit it. The smoke came out from his lips in one steady stream, but he made an attempt of twisting his lips to the side, so he didn’t blow it in your face. Joel continued looking at the ceiling, the only contact left between you two were your sticky shoulders glued back together. “How can you be my birdie, if you’re a rabbit? Rabbits can’t fly.” He finally looked at you, grazing you with a proud smirk.

Something warm spread inside you when you heard him call you by your nickname. Another wave of excitement spread beneath your skin, like when he so brazenly left a kiss on your neck. But then your heart slowed down, remembrance of what’s to come washing over you. Your sad smile didn’t share his joy, so you quietly sighed, it was your turn to stare at the crumbling plaster above your head.

“So what? It’s not like any of your birds got wings.” You chuckled softly, the sound catching in your throat.

don't forget to leave a comment if you liked the chapter 🐇🤍

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller x female reader #tess servopolous x reader #tess x reader #htbs #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel x female reader

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urcatslitterbox · 5 months

Text

I can’t stop thinking about Sebastian crushing over his friend who is also an actress.

Cw: masturbation

Sebastian had just finished shooting the last scenes for an upcoming show before heading home. Since shooting just wrapped, he had some down time before interviews start.

He plopped down on his couch after showering and trading his clothes from the day for a pair of grey sweats and a loose t-shirt. He wanted to start his little break off right and what better way to do it than catch up on his ‘to watch’ list.

Sebastian’s friend, Y/n’s new movie had come out a week ago, and though he couldn’t wait to see it, he had just been too busy with his own work.

So getting comfortable he grabbed the converter and began to type in the name of the movie. Up popped the films title cover featuring a very attractive Y/n and another actor he didn’t recognize. The film seemed to be a romance of sorts, which excited Sebastian.

You see, Sebastian has had a crush on his dear friend pretty much since they met. But it’s not his fault! Anyone, and trust people do, would have a crush on her. In the public eye Y/n is beautiful and talented, and while of course she certainly is both of those things, Sebastian is lucky enough to know the true Y/n. He knows how kind and caring she is. How bright her real smile is and the way she throws her head back when she laughs really hard.

He knows how drop dead gorgeous she is in person. He’s seen how flawless each spot on her face is, how deep her eyes are, how soft her lips look-

Stop. Control yourself, she’s your friend.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sebastian got about half way through the movie, and so far it’s pretty good, he’s enjoying it.

That is until y/n and her love interest kiss.

He feels a slight anger bubbling deep within him. He knows he has no right to feel angry. They aren’t together and the kiss isn’t even real. It doesn’t mean anything.

The scene is starting to get intense. The kiss becoming deeper and the two moving to the couch. Both Y/n and her co-star are panting and grasping each other.

Sebastian knows where this is going. He can feel himself getting slightly hard because of what’s happening on the screen. Normally he can handle sex scenes and they don’t affect him because he knows the ins and outs of what goes on behind the camera. However he’s having a hard time controlling himself this time because this one is with Y/n.

God he shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. She’s his friend for fuck sakes!

He actually prides himself on how well he’s holding back considering how enamoured with her he is. That is until she lets out a small whimper.

Oh fuck.

He knows it’s fake. He knows it’s just for the camera. He knows none of it is real.

But he’d be damned if he said she didn’t sound heavenly. Though he’s sure he could pull much prettier sounds from her.

Without realizing, his hand starts to move lower, palming himself through his sweats.

He really shouldn’t be doing this.

She lets out another whimper, louder this time.

He starts to rub himself harder within his pants. I mean this doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s not like she’s gonna know so what’s the harm really?

Y/n full out moans now.

Fuck it.

Sebastian pulls his cock out, red and already leaking precum. He starts spreading it with his thumb over his angry head. The moment he wrapped his hand around his length his head fell back as he let out a hiss.

God when was the last time he was this hard?

Gathering himself, Sebastian looks back up at the screen. Obviously it’s a movie, not a porno, so they can’t show everything. But what he can see, oh man. Y/n’s eyes are rolled back as she pants and moans.

His eyes travel lower, stroking himself slowly.

This is wrong. It’s so wrong but god does it feel right.

Her breast are in frame and fuck are they perfect. Nipples perky and looking so delicious. What he wouldn’t do just to suck on them. He groans at the thought, picking up his pace slightly. Again his eyes move lower, following the curves of her body down to her belly button, where it cuts off to keep it suitable for T.V.

The actor accompanying her leans in and kisses her harshly. She lets out a whine as her co-star moves to suck and kiss at her neck and jaw. Y/n’s nails rake down his back as he does so.

Sebastian outright moans at this. He wishes that were him so bad. He longs to mark her, to make her feel pleasure only he can provide.

He feels his balls tightening as he bucks up into his fist.

Fuck he’s not gonna last. Not with Y/n making her pretty sounds. Not with her looking so fucking delicious. So perfect.

His breaths quicken as he nears the edge.

“please..”, he begs into the open air.

God he’s so close, so goddamn close he just needs a little more. Then it happens. Y/n cries out as she ‘cums’.

There it is.

Sebastian cums with a loud groan of Y/n’s name. Chanting it as he comes down from his high, legs twitching with the force of his orgasm. His hand sticky with his own spend.

His head falls back once again as he attempts to catch his breath.

He closes his eyes and images of Y/n flash through his mind. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep his feelings hidden. Especially after that.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #urcatslitterbox #bucky barnes drabble #Sebastian stan drabble

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dxndjxrin · 9 months

Text

Seventeen, Vocal Unit: how they’d eat you out

Hello!! Here’s the vocal version!! HHU will be coming soon, but I hope u enjoy!!

Performance unit ver.

NSFW under the cut. 18+ only!!

Jeonghan: okay so evil Jeonghan agenda, yes. He can definitely be quite the evil little tease when he gives you head. But, catch him in the right mood, and this is one of the spaces where he catches himself giving up some control to you. Maybe you pull his hair a little tighter, grind up into him a bit more, and suddenly he’s getting high off of your desperation, and he wants to give you more and more, and all the teasing remarks go quiet. He loses himself in the sensations of you, and the reactions he pulls; your whines and praise have him grinding into the mattress, his cheeks flushing even further as he doubles down to make you cum. When he comes up to look at you in your post-orgasmic bliss, his eyes are hazy, he's panting, and boy is it a sight to see Jeonghan so speechless.

Joshua: oh my god. The amount of praise rolling off his tongue is nearly too much, but you’re his baby, and he’s gonna make sure you know how lucky he feels to have you like this. Maybe at the beginning of your relationship, you weren’t all that experienced, so Joshua definitely eases you into new things, so he feels a strange sense of pride when he can really get you to let go, get lost in the pleasure he’s bringing you, and just feel in a way you hadn’t before. Joshua makes you feel so unbelievably sexy, with his words of praise and the attentive way he caresses your body. No matter the pace or dynamics, it's always loving.

Woozi: Jihoon, by nature of his job, doesn't get as much time with you as he wishes. So when he does get time with you, he won’t waste it by rushing. He could eat you out for hours, and probably would if you didn’t break before then. He also just loves edging you. He memorizes every micro-expression on your face, every little whimper you make, how your muscles clench when he flicks his tongue a certain way. He loves every part of it, so he doesn’t want it to end, and there’s something so intoxicating about seeing you finally cum after endless teasing, almost-enough stimulation from him. He likes to talk you through it as well, sometimes he’ll get a little strict with it, like “behave baby, or I can’t make you cum, hmm?” As he hums, he tilts his head, just a hint of that cockiness slipping out, but it’s warranted; he can make you fall apart so easily. After he finally lets you cum on his tongue, he’s panting, trying to hide is (frankly obvious) burning need to fuck you, and if you’re not too sensitive, you’ll gladly grant that wish.

Dk: sit on his face, please sit on his face, he’ll do anything, and he’ll love every second of you practically suffocating him. You do check in with him to make sure he’s okay, because the way he’s eating you alive, you think there’s no way he’s comfortable, but he just groans out an “ ‘s okay,” and locks you tighter around his face. He’s pulling noises out of you with every flick of his tongue, and he’s matching them, moaning and frankly whimpering into you, which just heightens every sensation. He derives so much pleasure from the act that he’s so desperate after you finish; he obviously waits for you to recover, but the second you are, he’s shyly asking to fuck you because he’s so hard it hurts. It’s so intoxicating to see just how much he wants to pleasure you.

Seungkwan: kind of similar to Dino, but instead of being less experienced, he’s holding back. Seungkwan likes what he likes; he’d love to see you nearly crying with pleasure, writhing and panting in overstimulation, but he doesn’t want to freak you out! After a few times, you can tell something’s off, because he always looks back up at you with a careful, watchful eye (which is so sweet of him). But you tell him that he can be rougher with you, that you can handle it. He asks if you’re sure (you are), and the next time he settles to eat you out, it's absolutely mindblowing. His hands are all over you, but he tells you to be good and stay still for him so he can treat you right because, “how can I make you feel good if you don’t let me, baby?” You surrender yourself to him and let him do what he wants, he’s stopped holding back, and damn does it feel good.

Divider by @cafekitsune

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt vocal unit #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #joshua #joshua smut #woozi #woozi smut #dk #seokmin #dk smut #seokmin smut #seungkwan #seungkwan smut #dxndjxrin original <3 #my post #attempt 2 since it didn’t show in the tags last time 😭😭

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flutteringphalanges · 1 year

Text

Reaching for the Stars

Adam Warlock x Star Lord!Sister Reader

Prompt: When your infant daughter starts to exhibit signs of inheriting her father’s powers, you and Adam find yourselves in quite a predicament. Not to mention when your brother, Peter, finds himself caught up in it.

Word Count: 1,509

A/N: So I decided to write another one shot involving the reader and Adam Warlock having a child together. It is the same baby mentioned in my first one shot Aydith. The baby’s name is a combination of Meredith Quill and Ayesha (Adam’s mother). Also I couldn’t decide if the reader is married to Adam or dating, so I just said “partner”. You can decide! I might do another part to this one but I am not sure. I am open to requests! I hope you enjoy!

Reaching for the Stars

“Look, I’m no baby expert, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t exactly normal.”

Your heart was pounding too hard to even glare at your brother for his comment as the two of you stared up at the ceiling. You had only turned your head for a minute. A minute! And now your baby had decided that she no longer liked the ground and instead preferred floating several feet in the air where you couldn’t reach her. Thank god you were at least inside!

“Peter, do something!” You cried out, finally looking over at your brother in desperation. Oh, you felt sick. And faint. Christ, where the hell was Adam?! “Help me get her down!”

“What am I supposed to do?!” He gestured, obviously beginning to panic as well. “I’m not Groot! I can’t just extend my arms and grab her!” Peter exhaled and began to look around. “Maybe there is something we can use in here, like a broom?”

Your jaw dropped. “You want to hit my baby with a broom?!”

Peter threw his arms up in the air in frustration. “How the HELL did you come to that conclusion?! Why in all the universes would you assume I’d want to smack my niece out of the air?!”

“I don’t know?!” And your panicking was slowly growing into hysteria. You were just getting accustomed to parenting and now your perfect baby had decided to show off her celestial talents. Dammit, where was Adam?! “Aydith, it’s okay! Mommy is right here! Don’t move!”

Unlike you and her uncle, the infant seemed as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She floated in one place, occasional flipping and offering you a two tooth smile. Her (your eye color) sparkled and she giggled down at the two of you, completely unaware of the terror she was causing you both.

“Y/N?”

Both you and Peter turned to see Adam standing in the doorway. If it hadn’t been for the severity of the situation, the way his expression of confusion switched to one of bewilderment upon seeing his child in the air would’ve been comical. You didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling of relief as you hurried over to his side.

“Our baby is flying!” You pointed as if he couldn’t clearly see the situation before him.

“I didn’t know she could do that.” He replied so innocently. Damn, you loved him so much but sometimes…

“Nor did I!” You sighed deeply, trying to regain some form of composure after losing it with Peter. “But apparently she can and now she is up there and I cannot get her down!”

“Y/N wasn’t open to any of my ideas--” Peter began to argue before you cut him off.

“Because you wanted to knock Aydith out of the air with a broom!” You hissed.

“I was going to try to hook the handle on her overalls and pull her down!” He shot back. “But you didn’t even let me finish my plan!”

You really wanted to point out Peter’s interesting history when it came to planning, but decided against it. Instead, you watched as your daughter peered down at Adam, her chubby, little arms reached out towards him. Effortlessly, your partner rose into the air and gingerly took a hold of her. The moment his feet touched the ground, the wave of relief that hit you almost brought you to your knees.

“Oh, Aydith!” At once, you scooped her from Adam’s embrace and hugged her close. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, okay?!” It was a battle to hold back tears as you held her close.

“So the kid can fly now.” Peter said as he looked at Adam. “And she isn’t even one yet. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you are just as clueless as the rest of us of what else Aydith might be capable of?”

You felt Adam’s hand rest on the small of your back. Even though his eyes weren’t fixed on you, you knew he was trying to offer some comfort. You moved closer, resting your head against him as Aydith fiddled with the collar of your shirt.

“No, I’m sorry.” His eyes met yours, the look on his face hard to read. “Until I learned Y/N was pregnant, I didn’t even think it was possible for us to reproduce.”

Your daughter let out a whine, one that you had come to recognize as her needing a nap. Peter made a goofy face, trying to make her smile. He’d always been so good with her--not that you had ever doubted he wouldn’t be. Aydith looked back at him, one cheek pressed against your chest. She was tired--and if you were quite frank, so were you.

“We need to talk with the others.” Peter stated, looking from you to Adam. “Maybe come up with some sort of game plan to keep Aydith grounded until we fully understand what she is able to do.”

Your eyes flickered down to your daughter who appeared to have finally drifted off. She was so small. So little. How could someone like that do something so extraordinary, yet so terrifying at such a young age? You didn’t fear the possibilities of what she would be like if she had inherited some of her father’s powers. No. No, you worried what would happen if she did. What dangers she would face. That’s what scared you.

“Okay.” You nodded, shifting her in your arms. You knew the other Guardians would literally drop anything any of them were doing and come to your aid if you asked. That’s what families did after all. There was an old saying you remembered that said it took a village to raise a child--in this case, that village was turning out to be Knowhere. “Let’s do it.”

XXX

Silence followed you as you and Adam walked to Aydith’s room. Peter was gone and a part of you felt guilty of not apologizing after he left. You made a mental note to do so the next time you saw him. When you reached her crib, you cautiously set her down, doing your best not to wake her. Thankfully you were successful.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” The sound of Adam’s voice pulled you back to reality. “I never even fathomed the idea of Aydith having my abilities. If I had known, or even considered it for that matter…” He shook his head, guilt heavy in his tone as if he blamed himself. “If there hadn’t been a roof…”

The last thing you wanted was for him to feel bad. Adam’s powers, his gifts, they were beautiful. You didn’t dare want him to think otherwise. And certainly you didn’t want him to think that he’d cursed your daughter. Reaching out, you take a hold of his hand, interlocking your fingers. Aydith was safe. That was what was important. She was in her crib before the both of you passed out. Completely and utterly lost to the world.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” You assured him, reaching up with your other hand to turn his face towards your. “Aydith is a part of you, just as she is me. And I suppose one of those parts of you involves her having some sort of special abilities.” You offered him a small smile. “Even if witnessing my child levitate in the air wasn’t what I had initially ever anticipated her doing.”

Adam squeezed your hand. “No, I cannot say I pictured her doing so either.”

You both watched her quietly, his thumb gently stroking your hand. You were still on edge, though your anxiety had lessened quite a bit since Aydith had been deemed safe. Exhaling, you catch Adam’s gaze in your own.

“We’ve got this.” And you were a little surprised how sure you sounded. “At least, we can’t afford not to be, right? After everything we’ve been through as Guardians, I think we can manage this new milestone…Or whatever you want to call this new development.”

The corners of Adam’s mouth twitch slightly upwards at your words. “Yes, I agree with you. We haven’t let anything stop us yet.”

He dropped your hand and wound his arm around you to pull you into a kiss. You let your eyes close for a moment, melting in his embrace. It was moments like this that you cherished between the two of you. Especially after Aydith had been born and your intimate times had shifted some depending on her needs. Parenthood had surely become a whirlwind--one that you had welcomed with wide, open arms.

“I love you.” You murmured softly, pulling back just enough so that your eyes met. “Both of you.”

“And I you.” Adam replied, resting his forehead against yours. “In every universe and every dimension.” He turned away for just a second to peer over at your daughter before looking back. “We’ve got this, don’t we?”

This time, the nod you gave him felt much more confident. “Yeah,” you agreed. “We do.”

#Adam Warlock #Adam Warlock x Reader #Reader x Adam Warlock #gotg vol 3 #Peter Quill #Star Lord #Aydith Warlock #Adam Warlock Imagine

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starlordsandrockets · 1 year

Text

Snowed In

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

Word Count: 4.4k

summary: Your plans to return home for the holidays were ruined by a snow storm. Now, you found yourself spending Christmas with Peter, the neighbor you had a crush on.

a/n: Many apologizes for the wait, I started this fic months ago to ‘get ahead’ but here we are lol... I’ve been super sick as of recent so if some of my writing doesn’t make sense, I apologize and will proofread it after a nap, lol.

Peter watched the snow fall outside his apartment window as he heard the sound of heavy boots climbing back up the stairs. Your groan hummed through the building’s thin walls. Slowly, he made his way to his apartment’s door. Placing his hand on the handle, he swung the door open, eyes shut. Opening his eyes, he took in the sight of you.

You pulled your gloves off of your hands awkwardly from where they were tucked into your large, black coat. You were laughing under your breath, however, your laugh stemmed from frustration.

“You… okay?” Peter finally questioned, announcing his presence. He watched you jump before slowly turning your head.

“P-Peter,” You stuttered, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment. Your handsome neighbor now leaned against the doorframe of his apartment. A, clearly thrifted, sweater sat over a black shirt that peaked out from the neckline, “Yeah- Yeah I’m fine,” You dug into your purse, attempting to find your keys, “I just planned to head to my parent’s tonight- you know, for Christmas,” You watched him nod, taking in the luggage that sat at your feet, “But I’m snowed in and alone,”

Peter took in a deep breath, holding it. He knew you had no idea about what he went through and that your claim was harmless, however, it still hurt, “Yeah… me too,”

“You were going to your parents?” You questioned, not knowing anything about your neighbor, besides the fact that you had the biggest crush on him.

As soon as you heard that you had someone living across the hall, you just had to sneak a peek. You had your hopes up for a friend, or at least anyone besides an old man. To your surprise, it was Peter, and you found yourself hopelessly falling for him in a heartbeat.

“I, I actually don’t have parents,” Peter spoke, “I mean, I did- obviously,” He rambled, “They died and I lived with my Aunt but a year ago, she…” He still could not bear to finish that sentence.

“I-I’m sorry-” You turned back towards your door, “I should leave you alone now,” You laughed, “I didn’t mean to…” You stuck your retrieved keys into your door, “Have a nice night,” You shut the door behind yourself, leaving your luggage in the hall, far too embarrassed to retrieve it. Not until he left the hallway.

You stood there, back pressed against the door, sweating in your winter coat. You were an idiot- a bitch even. Why the hell did you ask him that? I mean, it was not like you knew. But on Christmas Eve, that was a new low for you. There was no way Peter could ever like you now.

Peter wanted to hit his head against the old, landlord painted door frame. Why did he say that to you? You were already upset that you could not see your family, so why did he make it about him? You did not even bother to grab your luggage, you would rather just get away from him. Peter debated turning around and just escaping into the cold night to get his mind off of you, however, he was afraid your things would get stolen from the hallway.

That is when he heard your door creak open. He watched your head poke out from behind the white door, “Jesus Chri-” You gasped. Peter wondered just how long he had been standing there thinking about you.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, “I just didn’t want someone walking off with your things,”

“Thanks,” You replied, your voice quiet. Reaching out, you watched as Peter stepped closer to you.

“Here-” Peter picked up your bags effortlessly, “I can get them- I didn’t mean to just dump all that on you before- About my family,”

“No- No! I’m the one who brought it up,” You stuttered, “It’s my fault and it’s almost Christmas and I was being an asshole-”

“Did you want to spend the night with me?” Peter questioned, interrupting your sentence, “I mean- Christmas- Christmas Eve and Christmas! Not like spend the night like-”

“Yes,” You replied, “I mean- Yeah, sure,”

”Cool cool,” Peter spoke through his nerves, “But uh- could we actually stay in your apartment?”

”M-Mine?” You questioned, staring back at your handsome neighbor.

”Yeah mines…” Peter trailed off. He really did not want you to find his suit, or his web shooters, or his scrap fabric from his suit, “I don’t really have much furniture, or food, or- well really anything,”

“Sure,” You nodded, “Yeah- yeah no problem,” You held your door open, allowing him to slip by with your luggage in hand, “Sorry if it’s kind of messy, I haven’t really been up to doing anything once I get home from work,” You were rambling nervously.

Peter took in your small apartment. It was much more decorated than his and it made him feel at home. He had always wondered what your apartment looked like every time he passed by you in the lobby or hallway, “It’s nice,”

“Yeah?” You laughed nervously.

”Yeah,” He spoke, “You have a couch and a bed,” He emphasized, watching you laugh. Your smile turned his stomach. He always thought you were pretty, beautiful even, and he never thought he would ever be in your apartment; Peter was surprised he even worked up the courage to talk to you.

“I’m sure you’re apartment isn’t that bad,” You responded.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of broke,” Peter shrugged, setting your bags down at the end of your bed. He studied the few stuffed animals that sat on your bed. A quilt was tossed on top of your bedsheets in an artfully messy way.

The old building’s poor insulation allowed a chill to hang in the room each time the wind blew outside. Peter’s head turned towards your window, “I was planning on taking a nice train ride home on the Amtrak,” You began to strip yourself of your warm outer layers, leaving yourself in a new sweater that you had bought recently. Part of you was glad you had no way out of Queens because now you were spending Christmas with the neighbor who you had a crush on since the day you moved in. And that is when you fully processed that Peter Parker was spending the night in your apartment, “I need a drink,” You spoke aloud to yourself.

Peter laughed at you quiet claim, watching you turn to look at him, “Sorry,”

”No, no-“ You stuttered, “Do, Do you want some? Spiked eggnog? Spiked coffee?” He watched you moved into the kitchen, watching as you began to make yourself a cup of coffee.

“Coffee’s good,” Peter answered, “Whatever you’re having is fine,”

“Right,” You spoke, “Sure,” You gave him a weak smile as you felt your cheeks heat up due to your nervousness. Peter now moved towards you, entering the kitchen.

Peter studied you as your back faced him. He felt his heart race slightly as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, “Need help?” He questioned, watching you jump slightly, “Sorry,” Without a thought, he reached out, placing his hand on the small of your back. You froze in his grasp, the sound of the coffee machine brewing filled the kitchen.

Your heart was beating in your ears as Peter’s hand lingered a bit longer. The coffee maker began to spit hot coffee into your mug, allowing you a few more moments to collect yourself. As soon as the humming stopped you spoke, “Fine- It’s fine,” Peter’s hand fell back to his side. He watched as you reached up towards a tall cabinet. Your fingertips pressed against the glass of the large bottle of vodka.

“Here,” Peter spoke, reaching out. The front of his body pressed against your arm, making you jump. He watched as the bottle tipped, your fingers leaving the bottle’s surface. Instantly he caught it before it could fall towards you, “Careful,”

“Sorry,” You spoke, “Thanks,” You watched as he set the bottle on your small countertop. You studied his hands, his fingers were long and slender. The sight made your stomach flutter slightly as you longed for them to fall against your skin once again. Unscrewing the cap of the bottle, you poured the liquor into the black coffee, “Uh-“ You cleared your throat silently at the sound of your own awkward voice, “Sugar’s on the counter and the creamer’s in the fridge,” You pushed the mug towards your smiling neighbor, “I have peppermint mocha and hazelnut I think,”

“Coool,” Peter’s lips drew out, he moved towards the refrigerator although his eyes stayed on you. He watched you prepare another cup of coffee, your hands fumbling while completing the task. Finally grabbing a creamer, Peter studied it in his hand before closing the fridge. Pouring the cream into the black coffee, he watched the colors swirl as he grew lost in thoughts of you.

You turned your head, watching Peter stare into his cup. That is when you realized you forgot to tell him where the utensils were, “Sorry-“ You spoke, heading towards the drawer of utensils. Grabbing a spoon you held it out, in his line of sight, “Sorry,”

“What?” He questioned, snapping out of his thoughts his eyes fell to you.

“Here, to stir your coffee,” You informed him.

“Right,” Peter took the metal from your hands, watching you give him a weak smile before you grabbed the other cup that had finished brewing. You weaved around him in the small kitchen and it made his heart flutter slightly. Something about it felt comforting and it made him feel complete.

You returned to Peter’s side with creamer in hand, “What kind did you put in?” You questioned, watching Peter stir his coffee. Your eyes caught the shining metal as he brought it to his lips. His lips parted, as he placed the warm metal against his tongue, catching some dripping coffee.

“Hmm?” He hummed around the spoon, “Oh,” Peter muttered, the word freeing his once occupied mouth, “Hazelnut,” He answered. Without a thought, Peter placed the spoon into your mug. He watched you stiffen for a moment, unsure as to why, “Thanks for the coffee,”

“Y-Yeah,” Your eyes left the spoon’s handle and met Peter’s eyes. His warm brown eyes mimicked the swirling coffee that sat between the two of you, “You… want to watch something?” He nodded, lips around the ceramic mug, “The remotes on the coffee table. If you want to look for something to watch,”

“Sure,” Peter smiled, leaving the small kitchen and heading towards your couch.

You waited, hearing his cushioned footsteps cross onto the carpet of your living room. With your back facing him, you stirred your coffee slowly before taking out the warm spoon. You stared at the metal, your distorted reflection staring back at you as you recalled Peter’s lips around the handle. Then, you brought the same spoon towards your lips. The metal passed your lips, caressing your tongue as it did Peter’s moments before.

Did that make you a freak? You would take the indirect kiss in a heartbeat. You could only hope that Peter did not see your desperate action.

Replacing the spoon with the edge of your cup, you took a large sip of the hot coffee, “It’s A Wonderful Life?” You heard Peter question from the couch.

“Hmm?” You hummed, being pulled out of your thoughts of him. Turning your head, you studied the tv, “Oh- No, too sad,” You watched Peter’s head turn away from your gaze, “If we’re drinking, I’ll cry. Plus that movie is so long,”

“We have all night,” Peter reminded you, “Unless you’re trying to kick me out,” He laughed, hoping you still wanted to spend the night with him.

“No- No, I’m not,” You walked to the couch, taking a seat next to him, “I just, I really don’t want to cry in front of you. Please,” You laughed into your coffee.

“Fine,” Peter continued to scroll on your tv, “Elf?”

“A classic,” You responded, “Sure,” Staring into the cup, you drank the rest of the spiked drink, “Do you want more?” You asked, looking at Peter’s, half empty cup.

“I’m good,” Peter smiled up at you as you rose to your feet.

“Cooool,” You drew out, “I’ll be back then,” Turning, you visibly cringed at yourself. The movie began to play. Taking the bottle, you eyeballed a shot of vodka and poured it into your empty cup. Bringing it to your lips, you swallowed it, wincing slightly before you prepared yourself another spiked cup.

“I don’t remember the credits being so lonnnng,” Peter called out to you over the movie.

“I do,” You smiled to yourself, “That’s why I’m making another cup now,” Your gaze locked onto Peter as you saw him jump up from the couch, “What are you-“

“Do you have hot cocoa?” Peter questioned with a slight bounce in his step. He watched as a smile threatened to curl your lips, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tried to play off.

“Tell me,” Peter groaned, placing his cup on the counter that sat in front of you, “Y/N,” Your name left his voice in a whining tone. He leaned on the counter next to you, his body heat radiating against your skin.

“You- You say hot cocoa,” You spoke, giving in due to his close proximity.

“And what do you say?” His eyes studied the side of your face as you refused to meet his eyes.

You felt as the shot began to affect you, making you mentally curse. You waited for the coffee maker to begin brewing, however it was taking far too long, allowing an awkward silence to fall between the two of you, “Hot chocolate,” You informed, looking at Peter out of the corner of your eyes.

Peter stood next to you with a stupid grin on his stupidly handsome face and it made you want to scream. You thought that the alcohol would help you survive the night with him, but now you were second guessing yourself.

“Hot chocolate,” Peter spoke, imitating your voice, “Do you have hot chocolate?”

“Nope,” You answered, moving past Peter and towards the fridge, “Sorry,” You listened to him groan. He headed towards the couch, pausing the movie, “What are you?”

“I’m going to get some cocoa from the corner store,” Peter spoke, heading towards your apartment’s door.

“But the snow,”

“I…” Peter dug through his head for an excuse, “I’ll be super quick, don’t worry- I use the fire escape,”

“The fire escape?” You questioned, a laugh lacing your tone, “You’re insane. No, I’ll just go with you,”

“No- No trust me,” Peter spoke, “Stay here and… get some blankets for the movie,” He watched you stare back at him, “Do you need anything? From the store?”

“Just ‘hot cocoa’,” You somewhat mocked, watching Peter throw you a playful look.

“Yeah, you’re not coming with me,” Peter smiled before heading through the door.

You watched as he closed the door behind him, listening to the sound of his door unlocking from the hallway. A deep breath passed through your nose and into your lungs, feeling your shoulders relax.

Your fingers fell against the fabric of your sweater as you looked at the paused movie on your tv screen. Remembering Peter’s words, you headed towards a closet that you kept your spare blankets in. Pulling out a large blanket, you paused, realizing you would probably die from shock if you shared a blanket with him. Throwing the large blanket onto the couch, you retrieved a second, smaller one.

You turned on the lights of your small tree that was tucked into a corner of the room. More sets of string lights lit up that lined a few surfaces of your apartment. Staring out at the city through your window, you studied the heavy snow that fell, wondering how Peter’s trip was to the corner store. Dimming the lights, you allowed the string lights and street lights to provide a calmer ambiance.

Walking past a mirror, you studied your reflection. You should probably touch up your makeup and change into something more comfortable.

Gathering some loungewear, you entered your small bathroom to change. Setting the plush fabric on the closed toilet, you removed your sweater and jeans. Staring at your reflection, you slipped a pair of fuzzy brown pants over your black underwear. The alcohol that ran through your system convinced you to slip the matching cardigan over your bralette, showing a little skin under your cozy loungewear.

Leaning in closer to the mirror, you studied your light makeup a little closer. However, you were unable to reach for your makeup bag, hearing someone coming through your front door.

Opening the bathroom door, you peered through the opening. You hoped it was Peter and not a total stranger walking through the unlocked door. Your gaze looked onto Peter as he carried two small bags with him, “That was fast,”

“I told you,” He smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot, “Super quick,”

“Yeah,” Your voice was skeptical as you exited the bathroom, “I’m surprised you even made it out the front door,”

“What do you mean?” Peter questioned, walking towards your kitchen. He set down the bags and began to dig through them.

“I couldn’t get out to catch the train,” You laughed, “Not that it would have mattered since they canceled it anyway,” You studied him as you made your way to the kitchen. Not a single inch of him was wet from the snow.

“They must have shoveled or something,” Peter shrugged next to you. He searched his head for the next possible excuse he would have to use. It was not like he could tell you that Spider-Man swung by the corner store just to get the ‘super cute girl that lives across the hall’ some hot cocoa, or hot chocolate.

“Our landlord? Shoveling?” You stopped a laugh from bubbling past your lips, “You’re funny. Did you slip on some ice on your way back? Hit your head?”

“Nope, just swung by the corner store,” Peter spoke, holding back a sly smile.

Somewhere between the banter, a pot of water was heating up on the stove as the two of you emptied the packets into your empty mugs. The alcohol that was once warming your system began to fade as you felt yourself grossing more nervous by the second.

“Did you… did you want to play a drinking game?” You questioned carefully. You watched as Peter met your eyes, a smile playing on his lips, “What? We don’t have to- if you don’t want to that’s fine I just thought-”

“Sounds fun,” Peter laughed. However, he felt a bit guilty, knowing the alcohol would not affect his heightened system.

“Cool,” You smiled to yourself, yet Peter could still study your face.

Before the tea pot could whistle, Peter took it off of its hot surface. His action earned your gaze as he poured the steaming water into your cups, “So are these the chasers or are you still spiking these?” He questioned with a smile that made your knees weak.

You were going to need all the help you could get, “Hand me the bottle,” You spoke, watching his smiling eyes close.

***

The two of you tipped back another shot, wincing, “You picked the worst possible things to drink to,” Before you could put the cup down on your coffee table, another keyword was spoken through the screen.

“It-It was the first one I googled,” You slurred slightly, feeling the alcohol’s effects, “You- Why are you complaining? You seem fine,”

“Do I?” Peter questioned from next to you on the couch. Stretching out his arm, he placed it along the couch’s back as he looked at you.

The two of you heard another ‘Santa’ come from the tv and regrettably reached for your cups, “You-” You winced as the vodka burned your chest, “Yeah. You seem fine,” You scooted a bit closer to him, your movements obscured by the alcohol in your system. The room moved slowly around you as you attempted to study Peter.

Embarrassed at your close proximity, Peter found the large blanket you had thrown on the couch, tossing it over your head, “Trust me, I’m feeling it,” He lied. However, his feelings for you were having a full effect on him.

Taking the end of the blanket, you tossed it over him, capturing him underneath with you, “I don’t beli-eve youu,” You slurred slightly, trying to locate him under the dark blanket.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, hands beginning to sweat. He wanted to kiss you.

“Hmm?” You hummed, finding him after your eyes adjusted.

“How do you feel?” He questioned, watching you shift in front of him.

“How do I feel?” You laughed, the movie’s audio a deafened hum, “Wh-What is that supposed to mean?”

“Are you drunk?” Peter questioned. He did not want to make moves on you if you were not capable of saying no.

You shook your head, eyes falling to his lips, “No,” You vocalized, “just… more confident,”

“Mhm,” Peter hummed, lips pressed in a straight line as he nodded. He removed the blanket from both your heads, not realizing just how hot and heavy the air had been.

You studied your neighbor, a subtle blush sat on his skin, but maybe it was from the heated covers, “We missed a bunch of shots you know,” You spoke.

“Yeah?” Peter laughed, “Why don’t we just have some hot chocolate,” He emphasized the word, watching a smile curl your lips.

“Mm, yeah, hot cocoa,” You reached out towards the mug. It was positioned closer to Peter on the table, making you move a little closer to him on the couch.

Bringing the warm drink to your lips, it calmed your nerves. But that soon ended as you felt Peter adjust the blanket over the two of you. You stared blankly at the movie, watching it come to an end. You prayed for the movie to continue, not wanting to have to interact with Peter once again.

The credits began to roll. Your heartbeat began to race as you watched Peter reach for the remote, “I don’t think we would make it through another drinking game,” He almost laughed. However, he was just doing you a favor.

“Yeah,” You spoke, “Right,” Shifting under the blanket you felt your breathing grow irregular as you attempted to calm yourself.

“You okay?” Peter asked, hearing your heartbeat and staggered breaths from his spot on the couch.

“What? Yeah- yeah,” You lied through your teeth, staring at the paused screen.

“Your heart’s beating super fast,” Peter leaned closer to you. Taking a breath, he tested the water, “What d’you have a crush on me or something?”

“You-You’re funny,” You spoke, taking a sip of the remaining hot chocolate. You winced, the once hot drink was now cold. The thought of Peter knowing about your crush overshadowed the fact that he could sense your heartbeat.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Peter turned to face you, watching you nod from behind your mug, “like Never Have I Ever,”

“Mmm,” You hummed around the rim. Setting the cup down, your heart dropped with it, “Sounds suupper fun,”

“Come on,” Peter groaned, “It is fun,” He watched as you threw him an unconvinced glance, “You can even go first,”

“Fine. Never have I ever invited myself into my neighbor’s apartment to spend the night,” You spoke, waiting for Peter to put down a finger.

“Fine,” Peter gave you a forced smile, putting down a finger. “Never have I ever called hot cocoa, hot chocolate,”

You put a finger down, “Never have I ever gone out in a blizzard just for hot cocoa,” You watched as Peter shifted under the blanket. A smile crossed your lips as you watched him put a finger down.

“Why don’t we start playing fair,” Peter spoke, watching you physically groan.

“Finnneee,” You agreed, head rolling on your shoulders, “But I’ll need a shot so I answer,” Peter’s eyes narrowed at your comment, “I’m fine and you want me to play fair and me playing fair would be me, buzzed enough to admit whatever you’re going to start asking me,”

“Fine,” Peter crossed a leg over his knee as he watched you stand from your spot next to him, “Never have I ever drank because I’m too nervous to sit next to my neighbor,”

You fell silent, hoping Peter would just drop the claim. A shot found its way into your hand as you brought the small glass to your lips.

“Is your finger down?” Peter smiled from his spot on the couch.

You could hear the amusement in his voice and at that, you took another shot.

Peter watched as you returned to the couch slowly, as if you were regretting each step, “We don’t have to play,”

“No- No,” You sat back down next to him, but not nearly as close as before, “I took my shots just- let’s get it over with,”

“Good,” Peter threw the shared blanket back over your legs, “Your turn,”

“Right,” You looked at the two fingers you had already put down, “Umm,” You searched your head for a fair turn. Staring at the ceiling, you only heard Peter shifting closer to you on the couch, “Never have I ever…” Your eyes slowly fell to Peter as he stared back at you, “You’re making this harder than it should be,”

Peter placed his elbow on the back of the couch, his fist holding up his head as a smug smile crossed his handsome face, “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re staring at me,” You spoke, “and I can’t concentrate,”

“I’m just looking at you,” Peter spoke, leaning in a bit, “Do I make you nervous?” He watched as your gaze fell to the floor, “Mm,” He hummed in a confirming tone.

“No- no,” You spoke, looking into his brown eyes, ��Peter- No! No-” Your words fell short as Peter extended his arm towards you, it now resting on the back of the couch.

“Okay, just wondering,” He toyed, watching you almost crumble before him, “Never have I ever, what?” He studied your wide eyes that stared back at him. God, he wanted to kiss you.

You took hold on the blanket, bunching the fabric in your hands as you searched for any words to pass through your parted lips. You watched as Peter’s eyes fell to your lips, where they lingered for what felt like an eternity, “wanted to kiss your neighbor,” The words were barely audible, spoken under your breath.

Peter attempted to hold back the smile that threatened to curl his lips, “How many shots did you have?”

“I don’t know why I said that?” You felt as if you wanted to curl up and die. You wanted to pull the blanket over you to shelter yourself from Peter’s eyes.

So that is exactly what you did. Pulling the blanket towards you, it covered your head, allowing you to sink down on the couch, “Y/N,” Peter almost laughed, his tone almost laced with pity. You were silent under the fabric, “...Did you put your finger down?” Peter asked, hearing you almost immediately whine.

Throwing the blanket over his head, he crawled towards you under the fabric, “Peter… please,” You raised your hands, rubbing your temples. The embarrassment ate away at you and you wished you had not taken those shots that made the claim roll off of your tongue.

“How else am I supposed to see if you put your finger down?” He watched as you shot him an unamused look from under your furrowed brows, “Fine,” Peter raised his hand that had two fingers down. He watched as you stared at his hand in the dim lit space the two of you shared, “If you didn’t put your finger down, you’re winning,” Peter spoke as he put down a third finger.

Your gaze left his hand and moved to his eyes. Parting your lips, you searched for the words while your eyes fell to his lips, “I…What neighbor?” You were not sure if you were just playing dumb, or if you had convinced yourself that there was no way Peter could ever like you.

“We’re like the only ones on this side of the stairs,” He laughed.

“Right,” Was all you could reply with as Peter inched, somehow, closer to you.

“Are you putting a finger down?” He questioned. You stared back at him and he studied every inch of your face. Your gaze had fallen, unable to look him in the eyes as you raised your hand. Peter almost held his breath as he watched your finger fall, giving him permission to make the first move.

So he did.

Before you could say a word, Peter’s lips found yours. His lips pressed against your own forcefully and hungrily as he waited for you to reciprocate.

Parting your lips, you let him in. The kiss deepened as Peter brought his hands to your face. His fingers trailed into your y/h/c locks before pulling on them slightly. Pulling you away from him, he stared at you, “I just wanted to make sure, before I kissed you,”

You nodded in his hold, “Yeah- Yeah… thanks,”

“Mhm,” Peter hummed, before bringing his lips to your neck. You jumped at the contact, a small gasp from your lips filled the stale air.

The space you shared under the blanket was dark and stuffy, the air feeling hot and heavy as Peter took the opportunity to explore the bare skin that peeked from under your open cardigan. You almost felt as if you were suffocating, Peter smothering you in affection.

Pulling the blanket off from over the two of you, you took in a generous breath of fresh air, “…Peter,”

At the sound of his name, he bit down on your skin, making you whimper, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” You responded almost immediately.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Peter questioned.

You did not have the courage to vocalize all the things you have dreamt of, “Whatever you want,” Whenever you found your mind wandering it was bringing you to Peter having his way with you.

“Be careful who you say that to,” Peter smiled against your skin, “You don’t know all the things I want to do to you,”

Peter’s claim made your knees weak, “L-Like w-hat?” You managed to push out.

Above you, Peter was pouring adoration. It was almost as if it fell, blanketing you in lust, “You want me to tell you?” He questioned, “or… I could show you,” Peter stared down at you, waiting for any sort of response but you would not meet his gaze. You crumbled beneath him, folding into yourself. You wanted to disappear and hide from the lustful thoughts that filled your mind, “Yeah?”

You nodded, face buried into your own shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it,” Peter spoke. He brought his fingers to the soft fabric of your pants, playing with the elastic band.

“Say what?” You managed to ask, looking at Peter out of the corner of your eyes.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” Peter spoke, watching your eyes widen for a moment, “or kiss you, or anything else,”

“Peter,” You spoke, far too embarrassed to speak those words.

“Or I can stop,”

“No,” Shaking your head, you felt your face heat up from embarrassment.

“Right,” Peter smiled, “Then?” His touch trailed, dipping under the fabric.

“...touch me,” You breathed out, “Peter- please,”

“There ‘ya go,” Peter smiled, “Anything for you,” Hand moving down, it traveled between your legs over the fabric of your underwear. The fabric was soft, almost silk-like against his rough fingertips.

“Mm,” You whimpered as Peter’s touch was gentle, stopping right over your clothed clit. After a quiet laugh, Peter applied some pressure, fingers moving. A small moan made its way past your lips.

“That feel good?” Peter questioned, watching you finally stare back at him. Something behind your eyes shifted, almost as if you were handing him the controls. Your lips were parted as he waited for you to respond.

“Mhm,” You moaned, feeling Peter press down harder. You wished the barrier was gone, wanting to feel Peter’s skin on your own, “P-Pete,”

“What?” Peter asked, “Use your words sweetheart,”

“T-Touch me,” You stuttered.

“I am,”

“For-for real,” Your words were simply, dumbed down under the building pressure of your embarrassment. Peter looked at you, a smug smile on his lips as you fell apart at his touch. You wanted more.

Without a word, Peter’s fingers retreated back up the fabric of your underwear. You were afraid that they would not return, however, you held your breath as his fingers stopped at the waistband of your underwear. Pushing past the fabric, Peter’s fingertips were now lightly grazing your skin, making a shiver travel through you, hardening your nipples.

Peter had no idea how he was being so bold. Maybe because he was acting on his feelings for you alone? He had wanted to do this since you moved in, months after he had found himself all alone and looking for a place to stay. Everyone that once knew him had now forgotten and you were the first person he could start fresh with and he found comfort in that, and in you.

Moving past your clit, Peter’s touch kept moving lower and lower until he reached your wet entrance, “You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed.

“S-Shut up,”

“It’s like you wanted this for as long as I have,” He spoke, absentmindedly.

Before you could reply, he dipped a finger into you, making you moan.

“So you want me to just touch you?” Peter questioned. He met your gaze from under your lashes. With each thrust of his finger your lashes batted slightly. His middle finger was only knuckle deep but you forgot just how long and slender his fingers truly were, “Hm?”

“Fo-for now,” You replied, focusing on his finger that moved in and out of you.

“Okay,” Peter said, “How’s this?” He questioned, a second finger finding its way into you. The action made you squirm, feet kicking off of the couch’s surface as if you were attempting to run off, “Need you to tell me, Y/N,”

Your heart was racing, rattling inside you as all of your thoughts scrambled inside your head. Surely any words that passed through your lips would not be cohesive ones, “F-f-fine,”

“Just fine?” Peter questioned, taking that as a hint to pick up the pace. So he did and his fingers dipped in and out of you with ease. The rhythm and speed sent waves of bliss through your system, feeling as if Peter’s action could bring you to climax alone.

“N-No,” You whimper, earning a confused remark from Peter, “Your-You’re gonna make me cum,”

“Good,” Peter smiled, “Need me to go faster, baby?” He watched you shake your head in agreement, “Want you to cum for me, okay?” Using his strength to his advantage, he fingered you as fast as you could take it, your quiet moans now became louder and breathy.

“Pe-Peter-” His name left your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your climax.

“You gonna cum?” Peter questioned, face now lowered. He placed a wet kiss to your jawline as he felt you nod against him.

With each moan that escaped you, you felt your head feel lighter. Peter was making you see stars in more ways than one.

“S-slow- slow down,” You barely spoke, “I’m getting lightheaded,” However, Peter did not stop. He was determined that he could make you cum beforehand.

Leaning back, he brought his other hand to your face. Covering your mouth, he continued to stimulate you, “I’m not going to stop til you cum,”

Your brows furrowed, eyes squeezing shut. You focused on the building climax that you longed to reach, “Peter-“

“Come on baby,” His words were soft as they pushed you over the edge. A smile crossed his lips as your moans became stuttered, “Therrreee you go,” From his tone, you could tell he was pleased with himself. His fingers did not slow as he worked you through your climax, “I can feel you cumming all over my fingers,” He spoke, removing his hand before placing it on the couch next to your head. With his new found leverage, he leaned over you, listening to the moans that still escaped your parted lips.

“You- You gotta stop-“

“But you’re cumming so good for me,”” Peter spoke smoothly in your ear. He watched you physically react to his sensual claim, crumbling next to him.

“I’m going to pass out,” You somewhat laughed, never experiencing this much pleasure before, or at least from just being fingered.

With that claim, Peter slowed his fingers before stopping completely. Then, he realized his strength had completely left his mind, “Did I hurt you?” Peter questioned, studying your face.

“N-No,” You spoke while attempting to catch your breath, “I just- it’s been awhile. And I normally don’t… cum from that,”

“Hm,” Peter hummed, leaning in and placing a kiss on your skin.

“What?” You questioned.

“Nothing,” Peter smiled back at you, “I’m just glad I could make you cum,”

A blush heated your skin as Peter talked about the subject so openly.

“Do you want to stop?” Peter questioned.

“S-Stop?” You asked, wondering what else Peter was planning.

“Or did you want to keep going?” He sat back, thighs flexing under the fabric of his jeans. Seeing the puzzled look on your face, a smile crossed Peter’s lips, “C’mere,” Sitting back against the couch, he motioned you towards him.

Crawling towards him, Peter helped you onto his lap. You swung your legs, straddling his waist. A smile sat on Peter’s handsome face as you studied it shyly. Your eyes followed each freckle that subtly peppered his nose, darker freckles dotted his soft skin, guiding your gaze.

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you study him a bit more intently now.

“Nothing! Nothing,” You quickly replied, embarrassment flooding through you now. You watched Peter laugh as he placed his hands on your legs. His touch trailed up and down, massaging your thighs. The soft fabric of your pants made him forget the weight of his advance, “Peter-”

Leaning forward, he brought his lips to your chest, kissing the skin above your bralette. Removing his hands, he brought them to the button of his jeans. Raising his hips, you felt just how hard he was, as he pushed the fabric of his jeans down his thighs.

His hands fell to the band of your lounge pants, pushing them down slowly, “This okay?” Peter questioned, “If you want me to stop,”

You wanted to reply, tell him how badly you wanted him but your breath caught in your throat. So you kissed him.

The kiss was forced, hungry and out of practice. You moved above him, allowing Peter to remove your pants, “I want you,” You finally whispered, lips inches away from Peter’s.

“Yeah?” Peter questioned with a laugh, “‘Gonna make you feel good,” Pushing his boxers, you watched his dick leap past the fabric.

His heated skin felt relieved by the room’s air, “P-Peter,” Your voice spoke over a sigh that passed through Peter’s lips, “do you… have a condom,”

“Yeah- Yeah,” Peter nodded. Reaching down, he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small box of condoms, the kind that you see at gas stations.

“Did… did you get that at the corner store?” You almost smiled, “With the hot chocolate,”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke as he rolled the condom down the length of himself, “Why?”

“What a purchase,” You almost teased, watching Peter’s gaze shift. His once soft and considerate gaze was now far more dominant, which sent a chill up your spine.

Peter hooked a finger around your underwear, pulling them aside. As Peter lined himself up with your entranced you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the size of him.

Placing a firm grip on both of your forearms, Peter pulled you down the length of him. A loud moan bubbled from your lips, making your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, “Therrre you go,” Peter spoke as you began to move above him, “Shit- yeah, just like that,” You bounced on his lap.

You would be lying if you said you felt confident in your actions. However, it had been awhile since you had done anything like this. While you were lost in thought, Peter’s hands wandered over your skin, exploring every inch of you.

“You’re so tight, baby- Gotta relax,” Peter assured. His gentle hands began to slip your cardigan down and off your arms, “You’re squeezing me,”

“Sorry it’s- it’s just been awhile,” You informed him. You watched Peter, he looked as if your claim went in one ear and out the other. Fingertips tickled the skin that sat underneath the band of your bralette, “Peter-“

“Hm?” He hummed, pushing the fabric up and over your breasts.

Your hands flew towards your chest, covering your newly exposed skin. However, you were not modest for long, feeling Peter grab your wrists. Pulling your arms firmly to your sides.

Peter felt you struggle in his hold, making him smile. He used his strength against you and it turned him on. Within the struggle, you stopped riding, warming his dick, “Let me see you,” Peter spoke before realizing your lack of movement, “Did I say you could stop?”

“W-What?” You stuttered at his dominance. Before you could wait for his reply, his hold tightened on your arms, raising you off of him. Your brows furrowed at the strength of Peter’s hold before he pulled you back down on him forcefully. The sound of your skin hitting Peter’s echoed through your small apartment.

Peter moved you, your arousal coating his dick and making him fuck you with ease. His eyes found your breasts, mesmerized as they bounced with each hard thrust that entered you, “Fuckkk,” Peter groaned, “so pretty”

Your dim lite apartment echoed with the sound of skin and your loud moans. The string lights almost illuminated your skin, a slight sweat covering your body as Peter tossed you around above him, “Peter- I’m gon-“ The words could barely vocalize between your moans.

“Hold on, need you to wait for me-“ Peter spoke, teeth taking in the skin of his lip. Picking you up and off of him, he heard you whimper. Throwing you onto the couch, he bent you over the back of it.

“What are you-“ You questioned, watching Peter move behind you. He pulled his pants down, kicking them off his legs before his hands returned to your skin. Cupping your ass, he rubbed your soft skin. His gentle touch was soon gone as it fell into the fabric of your underwear, beginning to rip them off of you, “Peter!”

He brought a firm hand down onto your skin, spanking your ass. With no warning he entered you again, coaxing a loud moan from your throat, “Want you to cum when I tell you to,” Peter spoke, “Don’t cum until I say so,” His thrusts were equally hard as fast, sending you further over the couch’s back. Your hands reached out behind you, fingers finding the fabric of Peter’s sweater, holding on for dear life.

Peter’s strength was almost unbearable, but you could tell just how close he was so you physically held on until he reached his climax, “Are you going to cum?” You managed to question. Reaching out, your fingers left his sweater, holding yourself off the couch, battling against Peter’s strength, “Please-“

“Yeah- yeah, shittt,” His head fell back slightly as he focused on chasing his high. You almost melted around him, filling Peter’s mind with the dirtiest thoughts, “I’m going to cum, sweetheart. Need you to cum with me, okay?” He watched you nod before focusing on your own orgasm as well, “I’m close- fuck I’m going to cum,”

“Mm please cum,” You begged, arms weak. However, you could not hold yourself up, body falling against the couch’s hard back, “fuck,”

Peter’s swears mixed with your own as he came, filling the condom that was buried deep inside of you. His hands fell, resting on the couch’s back on either side of you. Peter’s head felt heavy as it hung, eyes studying your ass as he pulled out of you slowly.

You groaned below him, sore from how rough Peter had been moments before.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke quietly, “Was I too rough?” You were silent below him, “I was, wasn’t I?” Dipping down, he placed a kiss between your shoulder blades. His kiss traveled to your neck, peppering it in kisses, making a shiver travel through your warm body, “Sorry,” Peter apologized again with a small laugh.

“You’re fine,” You finally spoke, your throat hoarse from your loud moans, “I’m just… sore,” You laughed. Sitting next to you, he helped you get more comfortable on the couch, “Peter,” You spoke, meeting his eyes, “I have a bed, it’s literally right there,”

“…Right,” Peter spoke, eyes leaving yours and falling onto the bed that was literally steps away, “I just… I really needed you,” He looked back towards you, unable to meet your embarrassed gaze, “and you also said how bad you wanted me, sooo,”

“I’m- I’m just saying,” You stuttered.

Awkward silence hung in the air as the two of you sat there.

“I should probably…” Peter trailed off, acknowledging the filled condom that still sat around him.

“Yeah- yeah,” You replied. He stood before you, giving you a small, and kind of awkward, smile. He walked off, disappearing into your bathroom and leaving you to reflect on what exactly just happened.

“How was that?” Peter asked, catching you off guard and making you jump slightly, “sorry,”

“No no I was just-“ You turned your head, “I was thinking about it. Not in a weird way- But how I’d think about doing that and it actually happened-“ Your lips shut as your words played in your own ears. God you sounded like a freak.

“You thought about fucking me?” Peter questioned, finding his spot next to you after putting on his boxers. He watched you crumble, turning your body away from him, “Nooo, no. It’s cute- I thought about you too, but you already know that,” You must have forgotten just how exposed you were to him right now, so he reached out, pulling your bralette back down and over your breasts, “I’m glad I wasn’t the creepy neighbor who thought about fucking you almost every time I saw you,”

“Straight to that?” You questioned, teasing him slightly.

“I know what foreplay is,” He joked back, watching you laugh, “but no, I think about eating you out a lot,” With that claim, he watched your eyes widen, making him laugh, “Maybe I could wake you up that way? On Christmas,”

“Christmas,” You spoke, remembering that you were supposed to be on a late night train back home but instead, you fucked your neighbor.

Reaching out, you grabbed your phone that was on your coffee table. Checking it, the time read 1:02 AM.

“Merry Christmas,” You spoke, eyes leaving the bright screen and falling into Peter’s warm brown gaze, “I kind of wish I got you something… you know since we just did all that,”

“Would…” Peter searched for the words in his head, “How about a date?”

“What?” You questioned. You were worried that tonight was going to be a one night stand, so Peter’s question washed a wave of relief over you, “You want to go out with me? Or I mean- like- a date. You want to go out on a date? With me?” Peter laughed as you rambled before him.

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I mean, that’s why I asked. Because I like you,”

“Oh, yeah- Yeah,” You spoke, “Yeah I’d like that,”

“Okay,” Peter laughed, bringing a hand towards your face. Pulling you close, he met you halfway with a sweet kiss, “Merry Christmas,”

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lyrical-fics · 8 months

Note

Can I request a fic inspired by kinda both I love you so (The Walters) OR/AND Francis Forever (mitski), Where the trailblazer has to leave Jarilo VI and Bronya or Seele or really any adult women are kinda sad Im asking for angst >:D

Feel free to ignore it if you don't vibe with this request! <3

I Miss You More Than Anything

Characters: Bronya, Seele, Serval

Song: Francis Forever

Synopsis: They knew you had to leave; you were a trailblazer, after all. However, they can’t just shake away the feeling of the feelings and memories the two of you shares together.

A/N: Yes, of course, anon!! I love Mitski very much, thank you for the request :D Also, a bit ooc Seele cause I have no idea how to write her, I’m so sorry. 😭 This is also probably a tad bit badly written, I’m using this to get out of my writer’s block and practically forced these words outta my brain 🥲

Serval

Serval knew of the consequences, she knew you would leave soon. After the incident that happened between her and the previous supreme guardian, she knew that she had to close off her heart. But here she was, in love with you; then you left. You left her and her heart that still ought to sing for you. But what can she do? You are a trailblazer, after all.

Serval didn’t cry when you left, knowing fully well what you do in your job as a trailblazer. But you can’t say she didn’t get hurt. She was hurt; so much to the point that as soon as she didn’t see your figure anymore, she ran to her workshop and cried the whole day; Gepard having to console her the whole duration of it.

She knows you wouldn’t come back and you couldn’t. So she faced the truth and tried to carry her life on normally.

Tried.

It’s 3am, she’s awake, looking at everything that reminded her of you. To the stuff that you left for her, unintentionally or not, to her very own workshop. You two spent a lot of time writing songs, talking and laughing together inside that building.

She wanted to sleep, but not when her mind is literally clouded by you. She needed something to pour all those thoughts out on. Now she’s writing a song about you again, only difference is— it’s no longer with you. She was used to this, composing music alone; until you arrived.

Oh, how she wishes she came with you instead and joined the trailblazers. But she couldn’t, she had a family here; a family that also loved her.

Serval’s stuck between her thoughts as she writes down lyrics for you. Lyrics you’ll never read. A song you’ll never hear. She can only chuckle softly as she feels her tears slowly drip down on the paper she’s writing on, writing one final lyric to finish the song for you.

“I’ve been trying to lay my head down, but I’m writing this at 3am.”

Bronya

Bronya wasn’t supposed to fall for you. She did her best to keep it all to herself, until you confessed your feelings for her. This was so wrong, she was aware you would leave that’s why she tried to avoid you. But how she wishes it didn’t end oh, so fast. Her mother dies by your hands, and you leave for another expedition. She should’ve expected it. So she’s left with a broken heart and a responsibility to shoulder.

She’s tired. So tired. Being the new supreme guardian gave her a lot of work to burden, more than she has ever handled before. Dark eye bags obviously appearing on her face. She hasn’t taken a rest in what, two days?

She didn’t cry when you left, that would destroy her reputation as the new supreme guardian, so she smiled softly and waved at you as she watched the train disappear.

Bronya would’ve finished her workload faster, if it weren’t for you lingering in her mind. They would have been by my side, encouraging me to finish this, she thought. They would have started helping me relax by now, she thought. Then she cried.

She didn’t need the whole world to know about what she has done for Jarilo-IV and the work she had to do. She needed your encouragement, your support, your praise. But you’re gone.

“I don’t need the world to see that I’ve been the best I can be, but I don’t think I can stand to be where you don’t see me.”

Seele

Seele was not worried a single bit when you left. You promised to return for her once you were done, after all. The first week of you leaving her was spent with numerous texts and calls with each other— until it stopped happening. She figured you were starting busy, so she waited. She waited, and waited, and waited. Numerous seasons passed by, but you never arrived.

Seele opens her phone and checks to see if there were any messages from you for the nth time that day, sighing as she sees an empty inbox. It’s been months since the two of you talked the last time, but she knows hopes you’d message her soon.

“Seele, don’t you think it’s time to move on? I don’t think she’s coming back sooner, she’s a trailblazer, remember that. They probably only said that to lessen your pain,” Oleg says, murmuring the last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by the girl.

“I’m working on it,” she replies blatantly, not even sparing him a glance.

“Look, Seele, if you don’t—”

“I’m going for a walk. Please don’t disturb me.”

She left with tears in her eyes. He was right. Maybe she should really think about moving on. You left and gave her empty promises, she should hate you.

And so, she gains a new goal. She straightens her back and continues walking around. Examining her surroundings, she notices that she ended up on a tree-lined path, the one that the two of you used to walk on. Looking up at the gaps of sunlight, she remembers your oh-so warm touch and smile.

Then she realizes.

“I miss you more than anything.”

#serval #serval landau #serval x reader #bronya #bronya rand #bronya x reader #seele #seele vollerei #seele x reader #honkai star rail #x reader #honkai star rail angst #angst #hsr #hsr x reader

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y2ashlee · 9 months

Text

Barbatos x Female! Reader

A/n: since I’m lazy you guys are dating in this.

The human _______ was very confused at Demonology and next week she had an exam so she was study, well trying to study that is with all the noise in the house it wasn’t helping. Basically, Mammon stole something of Asmo’s and then Asmo found it in Levi’s room and accused him and Mammon stole something from Levi again and then Satan caught him. And Beel was in the kitchen eating while Belphie was laying in the hallway asleep and Lucifer wasn’t home so basically there was no peace and quite in the house and they all came to her so they could get her on their side. “I’m not getting in the middle of this..” she said and grabbed her textbooks and put them in her bag. “Bye.” She said leaving the house and in reality she was just going to sit outside and try to study until Lucifer came home. The brothers continued their loud agreements. She sighed and sat on the front stairs and got out her books. “_____, what are you doing outside?” She jumped and looked up seeing Lucifer. “Their arguing and I can’t study..” she says sighing. He sighs along with her. “Sorry, Barbatos guess I’ll have to handle this, apologies.” Lucifer said and walked inside. “Hello, ______.” Barbatos said. “Hello, Barbatos how are you?” She asked. “I’m well thank you for asking. What are you doing here?” He asks referring to the textbooks. “Well I’ve got a Demonology test next week and I’m trying to study but obviously with all the noise and distractions in the house it’s hard.” She sighed. “Did you ask, Satan to help you?” Barbatos asked. “He’s part of the noise and distractions.” She said. “Well you could have asked me.” Barbatos said. “I’m always up to help you if you need it.” She smiled. “Really thank you, Barbatos, but I better let Lucifer know.” She said. “Yes, he will worry where you are if not.” He said. She nods and messages Lucifer. “Ok we can go now.” She said putting her things in her bag. “Then let’s go.” He smiles at her.

Time skip cause I’m lazy and didn’t think of anything before hand so I’m making this up as I go~

“Now to help you study I came up with a sort of game where if you get a question right you get a treat.” Barbatos said bringing out some biscuits. “Now I have a question ready, what is a Jinni?” He said as he sat down on his bed and gesturing her to sit on the desk chair. “It’s an Angel right and it’s used in the Islam language if I remember?” She said thinking for a moment. “That is correct, _____ dear, you may have a biscuit.” He smiled slightly. She gently took one of the small biscuits and bit into it. “Mm these are amazing~!” She said smiling. “Thank you now on to the next question. What is an Amir?” He said watching her take another bite of his biscuit. “Hmm, it’s an angel that lives among humans?” She said questioning her answer. “Correct, you may have another.” He said looking at her text books and notes. “As much as I love your biscuits I think if I eat to many I’ll probably vomit.” She say finishing her first biscuit. “Well we could make things more interesting? If that’s what you want~” he said smirking slightly at her. “What do you mean about that?” She asked. “Well how about for every correct answer you get I’ll take off one piece of clothing, but for every question you get wrong, you have to take off a piece of clothing.” He said with a grin. She blushed but nodded. “I-okay, at least I can vomit then.” She chuckles. He nods. “That would probably be for the best, but feel to have some biscuits regardless. But now onto more questions, what is a Shaithan?” He asked going through her notes. “It’s a rebellious Jinn?” She said going over her words. “Yes indeed but they are also malicious.” He said. “Oh yes I usually forget that.” She said going over the fact in her mind. “Well since you got one right I’ll take of my gloves, let’s could them as one.” Barbatos said and slipped his gloves off and placed them on his bedside table. “Next question, What is the name of a stronger type of Jinn that tries to steal information from heaven called?” He asked. “I believe that’s a If- no it’s a Marid, an Ifrit is the most powerful Jinn.” She said with confidence. “You are correct with both, well done and for that you get a to for one~” he said as he stood up and unbuttoning his blazer and sliding it off before hanging it up then he takes off his cummerbund and drops it to the floor. “Next question..”

This went on for quite a while until the human _______ was still mostly clothed the only thing she had to take off were her shoes and socks and her school blazer while Barbatos was only in his trouser’s. “I think this will have to be our last question as it seems to be getting late. “Oh you’re right.” She said looking at the time. “Now, what is a Hatif?” He asks looking at her watching every body movement she made. “A Hatif is a name for a specific demon that strangled children.” She says not confident with the answer. “Sadly you are incorrect, a Hatif is a mysterious phenomenon which can only be heard but never seen.” She sighs remembering it. “But if you can name what the strangling demon is I’ll let you go~” he says grinning. She blushed and thought. “Is it a Ghul?” He shakes his head. “A Ghul is generally evil but lives in the desert, a Qarinah is what you were after.” She nods. “I better get those memorised before the test.” He nodded. “Well since you got them wrong I can’t let you go now since you owe me two pieces of clothing that need to be removed~” he says and walks over to her kissing her neck seductively. “I know, I know.” She said and unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off as it draped over the back of the chair. She then stood up and was about to take off her skirt but he stopped her. “Why not take of your bra?” He says sliding in behind her and gently kneeing the back of her leg and her legs gave out as he sat down and guided her onto his lap. She blushed darkly and covering her mouth with her fist. “I-I didn’t like you wanted that..” she trails off. He smiles and unclips her bar and slides it off her shoulders and it tumbles to the ground. He places his hand gently on her breasts and gently massages them kneading them like dough his thumbs gently rubbing her nipples as she bites her lip gently her face got from her blush. “I-I thought you needed to go somewhere.” She squeaks out. “No, I just wanted to do something else is all.” He said kissing her neck and leaving small bruises on her skin. She sighed at the feeling of his touch to be this close to him felt wonderful. “Let’s move this to the bed, wouldn’t want you sliding off.” He said standing up and carrying her over to his bed and placed her down gently before reaching over to his beside table. “I hope you don’t mind if we use some...utensils~” he asked remerging in his draw. “I don’t mind but please nothing painful.” She says. “Okay dear as long as you consent.” He said pulling out a blind fold a length of cloth. He wrapped the lace around her wrists gently and tied it to the top of his bed frame and then placed the blindfold over her eyes.

“Is this okay, _____ my dear?” Barbatos asks and draped his fingers down her body to the waistband of her skirt. She nodded. “Y-yes.” She said and gasped as he felt him slide her skirt down her legs before she heard it drop to the floor. He licked his lips as kiss lent down and kissed her skin above the waistband of her underwear before he slowly slid them down and tosses them aside. He gently caressed her outer walls feeling her shudder against him made him bite his lip as he continued to move his finger between her outer walls slowly going faster as his arousal grew. She moaned softly at the feeling hearing him lick his lips and the sounds that came from her downstairs. “Aah~” she gasped her eyes closing under the blindfold as she gripped the cloth gently. He smiled and pulled away from her. She felt him get off the bed and heard something drop. “Just a moment my dear~” he said stepping out of his trousers and underwear before putting on some protection. He sighed at the cool feeling of the condom on his cock as he climbed back onto the bed and placed his member outside her walls. “Are you ready?” He asked his voice low and smooth. She nodded and gulped bracing for the feeling of him entering her. He slowly slipped his cock through her walls hearing her uncomfortable breaths. She bit her lip gently as he pulled out a little and slowly pushed back in as he repeated the slow movements. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping as he continued. She sighed as the pain started to dwindle little by little and the pleasure finally started as he picked up his pace grinding his hips into hers trading to find her pleasure spots. He pulled her legs closer to him and placed one on his hip as he went deeper into her core. “Barb-!” She said as she felt him rubbing gently on her clit she curls her toes feeling the pleasure get to her. He grins as he bucks his hips deeper into hers.

“_-______!” Barbatos groans as he feels his cock tremble and he shudders and he continues gripping the blankets underneath his hand as he came but he didn’t stop as he continued to ride out his high hopping he could make her reach hers. He puts her leg on his shoulder as he grinds deeper into her her moans slowly getting louder and cutting off half way before her walls finally clench around him her orgasm arriving as she moaned his named lowly. “Barbatos~!” She says her eyes closing and her body shuddering. He shudders once more as he came once more. He breathes heavily as he slowly slows down before pulling out of her and disposing of the waste. He breathes heavily. “Are you alright my dear.” He asks undoing the cloth and taking off her blindfold. “Y-yes, but I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home for awhile.” She says feeling embarrassed. “That’s okay, you can stay here with me. I’ll let, Lucifer know.” He said and kissed her forehead and he gently raised her up and placed her under the bed sheets and blanket before getting his phone and messaging Lucifer.

Barbatos: _____ will be staying here for the night, she feel asleep while studying.

Lucifer: That is fine just make sure she gets rest as well.

Barbatos: Will do.

Meanwhile in Diavolo’s room~

“I’m so glad, Barbatos got me into listening to these audiobooks before bed.” He said to Little D and took off his headphones and placed them on his bedside table. “A-ah, yes so glad, my lord...” Little D said as he curled up at the end of Diavolo’s bed knowing that he was the only one who heard those noises. “Goodnight, Little D.” Diavolo said as he slid into bed and got comfortable after turning off his lamp. “Goodnight, my Lord!” Said Little D. Now all throughout the Demon Lord’s castle everything was silent even the mince. Barbatos smiled and slid into bed and kissed ______’s bare shoulder. “Goodnight.” He said knowing that she was already asleep.

~~~

Hope you enjoyed. I struggled with writing for Barbatos as everyone only writes about him being into bdsm and whatnot.

#obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me swd #obey me smut #obey me mc #obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #obey me barbatos #obeyme Barbatos reader

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 month

Text

Ever in our favour

CHAPTER EIGHT - FINALE

[Table Of Contents]

Summary: The final fight... Who survives this deadly ordeal? Warnings: canon-typical violence, descriptions of mutated creatures, descriptions of blood and injuries, minor character deaths, brief mention of familial abuse Author's Note: Well, this is it! The last update of this series, I can officially mark this one as completed! It's been a long time coming, and I took a long hiatus halfway through, but I'm so incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story, and how well it turned out! Let me know what you think, comments are my life's blood!

You were so excited! It must’ve been silly, or would’ve been if anyone else had known about it. But you didn’t mind being a little silly, a little love-struck, since you wouldn’t be feeling much of anything but fear here soon. So you welcomed it, and rubbed the little scrap of paper between your finger and thumb once again, feeling the easy glide of the shiny material. You weren’t sure how he managed to sneak a scrap, or even how he managed to write the words on there, but you weren’t complaining.

“Stairwell D has roof access…

Midnight?”

You had also noticed a small smudge at the end of the words like Peeta had written something before trying to erase it. Something small, almost like a drawing. When you stared at it before, in your room, you had imagined and hoped it was a tiny heart. You can understand wanting to wipe that away, just in case. In case someone found the paper, or perhaps he thought you didn’t return his feelings? Well, in your fantasy, he had feelings for you. In reality, it was a bit harder to tell.

You felt like you had eyes on you constantly. In the training areas, obviously, but also in the hallways and living areas, even your bedroom. It felt… invasive. Though you supposed, your death will be recorded as live entertainment soon. You would wonder where the line was, but you didn’t think there was one. Or, perhaps, it was on the roof access? You’d hoped, at least, that there’d be no cameras. That you could finally talk to each other, alone, unafraid of your words.

You were currently making your way there. Supposedly, you were sleeping back on floor 9, in your extravagant and unnecessarily wide bed. Instead, you had slipped out, quiet as a mouse as you stuck to the walls, searching for the correct stairwell. This probably would’ve gone better if you’d scouted it out, but the moment you had read the note you’d began to make your way out. You hadn’t felt safe taking it out any sooner, until after you’d retired to your room. It might still be an hour early, but you wouldn’t mind the wait.

You’d already checked the stairwell on the eastern side of the building, but it hadn’t been the right letter. You hoped you’d find it soon, as you really didn’t want to be caught out here. Luckily, as you turned the next corner, the large D sat above a door, the stairwell symbol next to the handle. You rushed quickly, hand skirting over the cold medal as you pushed your way in.

The stairwell was quiet. You’d thought the hallway was too, but there had been this slight buzzing sound before. Now it’s like everything in the world was still. You hesitated on your floor a moment longer, closing your eyes and basking in the stillness of it. This was what you missed from District Nine. The peace and quiet, the serenity of the waves of grain and- the loneliness of it all. You opened your eyes and could feel a smile playing on your lips. You were ready to see him.

You began to rush up the steps, around and around, counting the floors. Ten, Eleven, Twelve. You leaned over the railing and peaked upward, one more stairwell to go. You could see the moonlight shining through the windows above. You held back a giggle by biting your lip, readying yourself to run up those last few steps. The door opened behind you.

You gasped and spun around, picking your hands up in a defensive stance. Just as you turned around, you noticed her turning back around as well, as if she was looking behind her to make sure she wasn’t being watched as she pushed through the door. You lock eyes with one of the most popular tributes in this season. Katniss Everdeen.

You both startle, and hesitate. The door closes behind her and you’re once again shunted into that noiseless space, the sound of both of your breaths mixing in the air. You made to take a step back but almost tripped on the stair upward, grabbing the railing to keep yourself standing. You huff an awkward laugh, glancing up, then back to her. “Did he invite you too?”

She looks confused at first, her eyebrows pinching together and down. You hesitate for a moment, glancing up once more before back to her, then behind her. She shakes her head slowly, lowering her arms. “No,” She whispers, “No, what do you mean? Who invited…?” She trails off, unsure of her own words. You try a small smile, but it feels forced.

“Peeta. He invited me to the roof,” You point up toward the stairwell, toward where you were itching to go. He still might not be there, but the idea that he was or would be? “I thought for a second that he invited you too.”

“Peeta,” She begins, tilting her head, then looking up. “I saw him going this way, I just thought…” She trails off again as if all of the dots are finally connecting in her head. She meets your gaze, her piercing stare directly into you. “What is your deal anyway?”

“What?” You ask on instinct, flinching very slightly. You shake your head and attempt to force a smile once more. “What do you mean?”

“You keep hanging around Peeta,” She lifts a finger, pointing it loosely in your direction. “In- In the training rooms. After Caesar’s shows. Anytime I look for Peeta, you’re there too.” She takes a step forward toward you, “What do you want with Peeta?”

“What do I want-” You repeat her slowly as if trying to comprehend the question. Did she suspect you of playing him? Why did she even care, Peeta had said Katniss never pays him any mind? “I don’t want anything with him. I-” You stutter slowly, shrugging, “I mean, besides his time. If he was willing to spare any.”

“You’re trying to gain his trust, why? Are you going to betray him in the arena? Or use him until it’s time to cut him off?” She takes another step forward, dropping her arm and glaring at you. “Or did you plan to string him along to the final two, just to off him then?”

“No,” You try to argue, shaking your head quickly. “No, of course not.”

“There’s nothing else this could be,” Katniss argues, shaking her head as well, albeit slower. “You know what this is just as well as I do. We’re not just going in there to die. We’re going in there to kill each other.” She said those words harshly, each word enunciated with intent. You could feel them shake your core. “We’re not just sacrificing ourselves, we’re-” She huffs a laugh, though you doubt it was one of humour. “We’re being forced into submission by a Capitol that doesn’t care about family, or hope, or love.”

You flinched on the last word. You tried not to, but you flinched, and you knew Katniss had seen it. She widened her eyes, falling back a step. Your head shakes quickly, taking a step forward. “No, please, Katniss. You have to believe me. I know all of that. I know what we’re being thrown into, how hostile this entire thing is. But I-” Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears springing to your eyes. “I don’t care how this game plays out, I could never hurt Peeta. So, you don’t need to worry about me.” You shrugged your shoulders, the disparity weighing on them. “If you’re worried about Peeta, just know I’ll give my life to make sure he wins.”

She breathes heavier, and emotions- fear, disbelief, anger- flicker through her eyes in rapid succession. You’re surprised she’s so easy to read, how was she surviving here in the Capitol? She raises her finger again, taking a hard step forward to poke you in the chest. “Leave Peeta alone. Run from him in the arena. Stay. Away. From him.” She backs up until her back hits the door.

“I won’t hurt him,” You whisper, tears coming to your eyes. Nothing she could say would deter you, of course. You were still going up those stairs, still going to see him, still going to meet up with him in the arena and protect him with everything you had.

“Don’t you see?” Katniss whispers, snarling at you, her own tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. “This. Doing this, giving him this hope. That is what will hurt him. Seeing you die. Don’t you get it?” She’s shaking her head as she pushes open the door, wandering back to her own floor and leaving you with the buzzing and the silence and the tears, slowly dripping down your face.

The talking ends as Marvel hoists his spear above his head, horizontally. He was rearing back, ready to throw, as Katniss let loose her arrow. It hits his elbow, causing him to drop his spear and rear back in pain. All three of you began running, Peeta just ahead of you to your left and Katniss off to the right side. Glimmer was rushing toward Katniss, Marvel nearby but distracted. You and Peeta sprinted toward Cato and Clove, both of whom had a manic but pleased smirk on their face. Peeta was rushing to drop a backpack strap, trying to hoist it around himself, and just managed to raise it in front of his head as Clove threw the first of her daggers. Cato swings his sword in a circle, then arcs it down right as he expects Peeta to be in range.

Clove grabs another dagger, her eyes on Peeta. He was dodging around Cato’s sword swings, trying to somehow be more agile than he normally was. You’d already seen a slice bleeding on his arm, the backpack sliced open and dropping its contents. An arrow whizzes by, and you draw in a deep breath, watching Clove raise another hand. You raise your own- this knife was useless, too flimsy, too close range- and throw it with all of your might. The knife spins in the air and the aim is off and wobbly. It won’t hit her, but it doesn’t need to. She doesn’t throw the knife she had aimed, jumping back away from your throw uselessly.

She looks up to you, growling into the air. She begins to charge, tackling you to the ground. You both struggle, but she has knives hooked in her hands, short and hardly painful cuts appearing on your skin everywhere you look. You heave, then heave again and you flash back to pushing Thresh’s body off of you before he died fully, and Clove was suddenly thrown from atop you, onto her side and crying out. You stumbled, throwing yourself on top of her and grabbing one of her hands with both of your own, shaking and yanking downward. She drops one knife as she stabs you in the back with another, and you cry out but reach forward, finally grasping hold of a capable weapon just before being slung off of the teen girl.

You roll, then look directly up to Cato, dodging your head to the side just as a sword buries into the ground above your shoulder. Cato’s body is tackled away, the blurry form of Peeta wrestling him to the ground as Clove stands behind where they just were, readying to tackle you. You throw your boots out, kicking her in the stomach during her dive and redirecting her to the side. You scramble quickly after that, trying to get your own feet under you. You tuck the dagger into a pocket and take hold of the sword’s hilt, yanking it out and feeling the heft. It was heavy, and you had to wield it with two hands just to swing it properly. Clove, standing, cackles at you.

“You really think you could wield that? You?” She rushes and you swing wildly. Despite Clove’s taunting, a sword is still a sword. Your swing is wobbly, but the sword is faced in the right direction, and it cleaves into Clove’s arm without issue. You wince from pain as your back pulls, the fresh wound made apparent, watching Clove stumble back in shock. She presses a hand to her arm, pulling it back to widen her eyes at the sight of her blood. She looks up at you, startled, then throws a dagger. It hits your shoulder- she must’ve thrown in a panic- and you gasp in pain, dropping the sword to the ground.

You reach a hand up to your shoulder, grasping the knife as you watch Clove turn tail and begin running. Glimmer was on the ground, motionless, with Katniss kneeling in the dirt and aiming an arrow at Marvel. He was favouring his injured arm, but he still swung his spear around in arcs, trying to hit Katniss. She rolled back once, then twice, and you see Clove still running, and getting away, and Peeta is calling out in pain and there’s no time.

“Katniss!” You yell for her, and she turns to look at you just as Marvel stumbles and falls to the ground, an arrow sticking out from his thigh. You point, yelling, “Clove!” You both turn at the same time as the dark-haired, pinched-faced teen girl grabs ahold of- of Rue! She spins her around and holds a knife to her throat and-

Katniss looses her arrow, straight through the middle of Clove’s chest. She falls backwards, and Rue immediately takes off running once she feels the girl’s grip fall from her. Rue is crying, it seems, tears streaming down her face. Katniss is held down by Marvel, struggling, and Peeta- ‘Where’s Peeta?’

You’re tackled to the ground, a familiar sword gleaming brightly right against your throat. “I know I said I’d save you for last,” Cato grabs your head with his other hand, lifting and smacking it down quickly. Your vision turns blurry as you try to orient yourself. “But I always relished the idea of your death. I told them you were mine, you know?”

You haven’t stopped struggling once, but you were no match in strength. You threw your head, regardless of the threat above you, rapidly side to side. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t see Peeta. Cato sat up straight, taking the sword vertically, placing the very tip against your throat. You swallow and feel the blade cut just lightly with how close it is to you. You finally look up once more, raising your hands to try to push Cato’s hands back but it’s useless, and you’re stuck once again and how do these people keep pinning you down?

As Peeta- because of course it is, who else would it be?- tackles Cato off of your chest, you flash back to every single time he’s done that already. In the very beginning, when you woke up. At the river, after you saved his life. His attempt with Thresh.

You shoot up and scramble to your feet, watching as Peeta ruthlessly picks up the discarded sword, lifts it above his head, and brings it down. You watch as it slices clean across his throat- Cato, killed by his own weapon. Rue tackles into you, and it forces you a step back, but barely. You hold her to yourself, looking around quickly. Peeta, standing and dropping a bloodied sword. Rue, panting with fear and exhaustion against you.

Katniss, heaving with breath and with blood pouring from her nose, raises her bow and notches her final arrow, immediately turning to set it on you. Marvel was lying to her side, likely dead as well now. You feel a flashback from earlier in the day quickly cross your mind, though the rest of your thoughts pool to, ‘This is it, finally. I guess that’s okay. At least I know Peeta is safe…’

You’ve never seen him move so fast in your life. He dives in front of you, stumbling in his effort to stop his forward momentum. He turns to face her directly, falling backwards into you. You catch him, of course you catch him, and hold onto his back as he reaches back to hold onto you as well, one of his hands pressing against Rue’s fluff of hair. His voice is rough with exertion as he yells out, “No!”

“You-” She lowers her bow slightly, the arrow still pulled taut. “They betrayed us!”

“No, they didn’t!” He yells back, shaking his head furiously.

“You heard what Cato said!”

“He’s lying!”

“Well, we can’t ask them, can we? They’d just lie.” She raises her bow again, placing the string against her mouth.

“They don’t remember!” He calls out, his voice wrecked. You tighten your hold on Peeta, ready to shove him to the side at a moment’s notice.

“They-” Katniss lowers her bow again, looking at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “So what? You’re running on blind faith? On hope?”

“What else is there?” Peeta screams, taking a step forward and breaking the hold between the two of you. “If we don’t have hope, then what do we have? Nothing!”

The barking gets louder suddenly, out of nowhere, and all three of you turn to see the mutated mutts. Where once they clawed at an invisible barrier- that barrier seems to have disappeared. They were running, fast and agile and straight for all of you. The four of you turn immediately, beginning an all-out sprint, similar to earlier. You knew you could outrun them, you just had to use all of your stamina to do so. Rue begins to fall behind, limping pitifully, and you watch as Peeta takes in a deep breath and runs back, reaching down and scooping up one arm of Rue, hoisting her up. You manage to steel yourself in place until they can catch up, scooping up her other arm and resuming your sprint with them in tow.

You didn’t realise where you were running at first, just following along. But the cornucopia shines brightly in the sun, glimmering and almost blinding you as you run directly for it. You all practically slam against it, and you and Peeta work at throwing Rue as far up as you can, holding her feet as she scrambles to the top. Peeta, once no longer able to reach her, turns quickly to look behind you with panic. He laces his hands and yells, “Jump!” You have no time to react, just using his hands as a step, he hoists you up as well. You scramble, slip, and as much as Rue tries to help she really has no strength behind it.

The moment you’re secure in the fact that you won’t fall, you immediately spin around and reach a hand down. Peeta takes a running leap and takes hold of you, and you try to pull him as his feet catch on the slippery gold- streaked with blood. You grunt, watching the dogs race up and begin lunging, clawing, trying with all of their mutated power to reach him. He cries out as a few claws catch his shins, then throws his other hand out. Katniss is next to you, you don’t know when she got there but she did, and she took hold of his other hand with both of hers. With your combined power, you managed to pull him up.

You breathe.

You finally breathe, and the mutts are scrambling at the bottom of the cornucopia but there’s nothing they can do, they can’t get up here. Rue is panting and crying and burying her face into Peeta’s jacket. He pets her hair as he stares directly at you, and you let your eyes roam to the last person. Katniss, now standing, stares down at the mutts. She still has one arrow left, the one that had just been aimed at you. You all left the weapons behind, just a dagger in your pocket- one buried in your shoulder, still- that would be no help against these dog-like mutations. Katniss seems to come to the same conclusion, her eyes roaming the writhing mass of bodies beneath you.

You push yourself up enough to lean on your elbows, watching Rue finally stop crying and take deep breaths, peaking her head out to look between everyone. Even Peeta finally tears his gaze from you, raising it to the standing Katniss. She looks to the sky, her face void of emotion, then raises three fingers to her lips. She kisses them, then raises the salute into the air. You didn’t know what it was, or what it meant, but it seemed symbolic.

The next thing you know, she’s notching her final arrow once more- your own hand shoots to the dagger in your pocket. It may not be of any aid against those mutations, but you’d fight her to the death. You would kill her if it came to it. However, she doesn’t aim it toward you. She lifts the bow, aiming the bolt directly for the sun. She looses the arrow and you all watch as it soars through the air, upward. More, and more, until it’s just a blur, until it's a speck and you can’t see it anymore. And then the world pulses.

Not exactly the world, mind, but the sky definitely. From wherever that arrow was, you assume, it’s like a pulse-wave shoots outward. Once, but then again. As it pulses a third time, there are more waves, and once more before it stops looking like waves altogether. The sun blinks and flickers, and the middle of the sky seems to be caving in. The sky was falling, down around the four of you, large metal pieces and chunks that could kill you if it landed atop you. But they fall and fall and suddenly a different sort of light is pouring in through the holes. You weren’t sure how you believed the faulty imitation to be the real sun before when you see it now.

A shadow falls across your group as everyone begins to stand, and you feel a large hand slot into yours as Peeta takes hold of you with a firm grip. You look at him, unsure what is happening. This was the end, for sure. If this was the Capitol, you were all dead. But who else would it be? Some mystical saviour here to stop the Hunger Games once and for all? You remember joking about that with Peeta before, but the possibility was close to zero.

You hear the beats of what could only be helicopter blades, right as you hear harsh metal screeching fill the air. The mutts were being scared off, running and yipping back into the forest. But their absence reveals the source of the screeching; large metal pipes rising into the arena, evenly placed through the entire grounds as far as the eye could see. You watch as they begin to release a green-coloured gas into the air.

You turn quickly toward Peeta, the hand holding Peeta’s hand lifts and rests atop Rue’s head, your other hand reaching out for his cheek. This was it, whatever happens. You duck forward and kiss Peeta as if it’s your last. He pulls you in by the waist with his spare hand, and the last thing you feel before the blackness takes over is Peeta’s lips on yours.

You wipe the tears away as you take the final steps up the stairs, looking out of the small window on the door. You could see him. Peeta was sitting on the edge of the roof, looking over the side with a small smile on his face. Was Katniss right? Were you just hurting Peeta by loving him?

You pull the door open and step outside, the crunch of your feet on the gravel underfoot drawing Peeta’s attention to you. He sits up straight, smiling brightly over. “It’s early. I guess we both had the same idea?”

“I couldn’t wait,” You admit quietly, smiling shyly. You continue your approach, moving to sit across from him on the wall. “Although, I did run into somebody in the halls.” The shock and worry on Peeta’s face were reassuring as he sat forward quickly, easily taking your hands into his own. You weren’t expecting such quick affection, after trying to keep yourselves distant in the training halls.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” You tried to reassure, forcing a smile and idly rubbing his hands with your thumbs. “Nothing like that. I saw Katniss.” His face fell from worry to confusion, tilting his head slightly to the side like a puppy. He really was adorable. The lights from the Capitol lit up his hair in an array of colours, and his eyes were just that right shade of blue that reminded you of home. You didn’t stand a chance when it came to him.

“Katniss? What was she doing?”

“Following you, I think,” You whisper, biting your lip hesitantly. You look away, out toward the cityscape around you. You hadn’t taken in the sight since you arrived on the roof, too taken with the image of Peeta. The city was colourful and grand, and you could see yourself thinking it was beautiful if it didn’t run on the lives of children. “She threatened me though.” You felt his hands tighten around yours, tugging gently. You assumed he was trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your head turned.

“What?”

“She told me to stay away from you.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, and you sniff as you turn back to face him finally. From the look on his face, he could see the wetness reflected in your eyes. “At first she thought I was out to get you. And then, she said that just being with you like this, or meeting up in the arena, was just going to end up bad for you. That it’ll hurt you more than just me avoiding you.”

“That’s not true,” Peeta is quick to reassure, scooting closer and raising a hand to place on your cheek. “I know we haven’t had the proper time to talk yet, without everyone listening and watching. That’s why I asked you here, anyway. But I don’t think I could go into that arena without you. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without your humour and encouragement.”

“You don’t mean that Peeta,” You sigh out, letting the self-doubt take control. “We hardly know each other, and like you said, we’ve barely been able to actually speak our minds.”

“Well here’s my mind then,” Peeta whispers, leaning closer. “I didn’t know someone like you existed. Someone so sweet and hilarious, that you’d practice setting traps and accidentally spring one and still apologize. We laughed and you apologized still- even though we’re supposed to be doing this for real here soon. Even though he had been screaming and threatening you the entire time.” You chuckled lightly at the memory of Marvel being hoisted into the air, his face red with anger and blood. “You saw me picking the wrong herbs and berries, and instead of letting me off and rightly assuming I’d die in the arena to poison, you came over and taught me instead. I was enamoured with you from that point on.”

“I was sooner than that,” You admit quietly, a small smile playing on your lips. “You weren’t dressed as coal miners before the chariots went off. We locked eyes-”

“I remember that,” Peeta whispers quickly, his smile widening as he scoots even closer. Your knees were touching and his hand that had been resting on your cheek was now set on your hip. “I’d say I noticed you then, but all I really noticed was a long stalk of grain.” You bark out a surprised laugh, nodding.

“Our costumes are never very good.”

“I liked the wheat crown though.” He leans forward, and you see the sky in his eyes once more. “I liked yours better though. The one you wore when they called your name.” Your mind immediately flashes back to that day, wearing that itchy outfit and bashfully pulling the dead crown of stalks off of your head. Everyone keeps mentioning it like it’s so important.

“I learned to weave them from old friends back in Nine.”

“All I learned back in Twelve was how to bake bread and how to take a beating.” You look up quickly, eyes filled with worry and affection. You open your mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. “No, don’t. It’s fine. It only happened when I did something that we couldn’t afford, like give out bread to the hungry and dying.” You blow out the air from your mouth, pursing your lips.

“Things really are pretty tough in District Twelve, aren’t they?” Peeta only nods blandly, staring into your eyes. You continue, lowering your voice further. “But I guess it doesn’t matter then, does it?”

“Not for me anymore,” Peeta agrees, his head just barely nodding that you don’t think he even noticed. He sighs, a pained expression crossing his face. “Y/N… I don’t think we’re going to survive the games.”

“I don’t think so either,” You begin, but leave out the part that you’d sacrifice yourself for him in a heartbeat if it meant he survived. You had a feeling he felt the same.

“I don’t want them to change me.” You pull on Peeta’s hands as he whispers this, watching tears begin to fill his eyes. “I don’t want them to make me into something I’m not.”

“They won’t,” You try to reassure, adamant about it.

“You don’t know that-”

“I know that we can watch each other. Make sure neither of us changes.” You watch Peeta bite his lip, and you raise one of your hands to wipe the tears that begin to spill from his eyes. “We can die together, with love and hope in our hearts.” Peeta nods slightly, then coughs out a laugh. You tilt your head, wondering why.

“What if we survive, though? What if we’re the final two?” You blink a few times, watching the trepidation in his eyes.

“I think we both know-”

“You aren’t dying.”

“Neither are you.” You sigh, smiling softly. “As I was saying, I think we both know that neither of us are willing to kill each other. So I guess, whatever the game makers have in store.” You shrug, taking both of his hands in a firm grasp. “If we refuse to kill, they’ll send something out to kill us anyway.” Peeta looks shocked momentarily, as if this thought had never occurred to him. He thinks it over, then steels his expression with a smirk.

“We don’t need to go in there and just lay over and die, though.” You watch his resolution, his absolute faith in you. It fills you with inspiration. “We go in there and we try our damndest. If we watch each other’s back- actually, legitimately watch over each other and not just turn on each other later like the Careers or any other alliance- then I think we have a chance.” Your smile grows, and you can’t help yourself.

“Who knows? If we play up the romance enough, maybe they’ll let us both win.”

You were being pushed and prodded, forced toward the halls and through the doors that’ll eventually lead to you in the arena. You weren’t ready- of course, you didn’t think anyone was, but you haven’t seen Peeta since the training area. You hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye, to say you’ll meet up, to say-

You shook your head, dispelling the thought that he’d die immediately from your head. You’ll meet up. You’ll be on those platforms, and look around for him, and you’ll run together. You have to trust it, believe in it. You have to hope.

“Y/N!” You turn quickly, still being pushed toward a door opposite the sound of the voice. You were in a rather large room with a multitude of doors, about a quarter of the tributes being transferred to their positions. Peeta was being pushed toward his own door at the end of the hall, and he pulled his shoulder free from the soldier. They grab him again, but he yanks harder and begins to run toward you. You suck in a breath, not having to pull anyone’s hands off of you as you’d been listening before now, and take off running to meet him.

You crash together in the middle, Peeta wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. You could see his soldiers coming for him over his shoulder and were sure he was seeing the same of your own.

“What did Cato say?” Peeta’s voice was low and fast, and he raised one hand to place it on your cheek. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close for a hug so you can whisper into his ear.

“He wants Katniss. He hoped my alliance with you would extend to her, said to bring her to the cornucopia and he wouldn’t hurt me. I told him I’d do nothing without-” The soldiers were pulling, tugging on you both, but you held fast. “Without you too. He doesn’t believe that I care about you, just laughed.”

You both are pulled back enough that you can look into each other’s eyes, Peeta’s own calculating. You don’t hear him say anything in response to it, but you were sure you’d hear of it in the arena. You knew he wasn’t mad, but you could also tell he didn’t trust Cato. You didn’t either. There was an understanding between you, on this at least.

“I’ll see you in there-” He begins, before being cut off by the soldier’s shouts.

“Let’s go! Move it!”

“Meet me-!” You begin before you’re yanked roughly. You cry out as your shoulder flares in an abrupt but quick pain, and you watch Peeta’s eyes flash in anger. He gets away from his soldier just enough to push yours away from you, yelling out in anger. Two sets of hands find themselves on Peeta now, pulling his arms back and restraining him. You rush forward.

You didn’t know what you were doing until it happened. You placed both hands on his cheeks and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. They were soft and lovely and he moved his head as far forward as he could to kiss you back. Your first kiss- ever, not just with Peeta- and it was mind-blowing, amazing in a way you couldn’t describe. You tried to inch closer, push into the kiss more, before you were forcibly yanked back away from him.

“Peeta!” You call out, watching him kick and struggle as he’s dragged away by three soldiers, out through his door. The moment it closed behind him, you’d stopped struggling. The soldiers dragged you toward your own door, then through it to your own demise.

You gasp awake, the sterile smell of alcohol and disinfectants assaulting your senses. You’re surrounded by white- white bedsheets, white curtains surrounding your bed, white walls, white curved ceiling. Beeps and jingles fill the room at various points- one harsh beeping right next to your ear- but you can hear no voices or sounds of danger. Obviously, this looked like some kind of med bay. But why would you be in a med bay? Was this some new sick twist to the games?

One of your curtains is pulled open harshly, and a tall lady with her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun gasps loudly in surprise. Her eyes widen as she looks you in the eyes before quickly swiping the curtain back closed with a loud metal ‘zing!’ You open your mouth to call out to her, to ask where you are, but you can’t get your voice to work.

You begin to panic, pushing harder and it hurts, until finally you hear a raspy breath and the slight sound of your voice through your panic. Memories flash backwards through time until you can clearly see Thresh atop you, holding you down by the neck. Your neck must’ve gotten worse after you fell unconscious. You try your best to sit up, pain shooting through your shoulder and up your back. As the bedsheet falls, you see your chest wrapped up in those very spots- no blood showing, but as tight as can be. You feel something crinkle on your neck and reach up, gently feeling some soft cloth laid across your neck. You could tell there was ointment there, the cloth just there to keep it covered.

You gently lean back against your pillows, looking down at the tubes running into your arm and electrodes placed in various places of your body. You glance at the machine next to you, the loud beeping one, and try to study the different graphs, lines, and bars. You couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Zing, the curtain slides again, and you look up quickly. There’s another man there, one you don’t recognize with blond hair that falls to his shoulders, and an older complexion with grey, unsettling eyes. He wore rugged clothes, with a beanie pulled over his hair, that gave him an air of unprofessionalism- he couldn’t be the doctor here. He stares at you hard for a moment before stepping in, closing the curtain behind him and finally taking an unsolicited seat on your bed beside your legs.

You open your mouth to speak again but think better of it and close it once more. You hear the man chuckle, crossing his arms. You begin to look around frantically, looking for anything that might indicate what you’re wanting to say. You pat the bed, reach to the bedside and slide open all of the drawers, and just as you’re beginning to check under the pillows, the man reaches a hand out and tries to calm you down.

“Okay, okay. Okay!” He takes both hands and forcefully sets them down in your lap. He gives you a hard look, patting your hands before leaning back again. He’s quiet for another moment, and it is getting to the point that you’re about to start looking for a pen and paper once more when he finally speaks up again. “I assume you want to ask after Peeta.”

Your eyes widen, nodding quickly and without thinking, wincing from the pain in your neck. You lean forward, eager to hear. “He’s fine. He’s asleep- well, unconscious right now.” You tilt your head and can feel your face expressing your worry. “That green gas that was emitted at the end of the games was a knock-out gas, the Capitol was trying to keep us from saving you. Honestly, it just helped our escape, we were able to scoop all of you up without a fight.

“Peeta was the first to wake up from the gas, while we were getting everyone situated in their beds at the medbay. He was struggling like no other, trying to find his way to you. Shouting your name over and over, calling us all Capitol pigs- he wouldn’t listen, no matter what they said.” He hesitates, looking you over before adding on, “We’re not the Capitol by the way.” You furrow your brow, wanting to ask what this was- what they were- but he continues on anyway. “They had to pull me from the war council to come in and calm him down.” Your face furrows even more, falling backwards against your pillow with another wince. ‘Why would this man calm Peeta down…?’

“He saw me-” His eyes had been roaming, as well as his hands, while he spoke, but he gives you a side-eye now. “Oh, right. Haymitch, by the way. The only District Twelve victor.” He holds his hand out to shake, but you take too long as he withdraws it back anyway. “Peeta saw me and calmed down enough for me to tell him that you’re all safe. You all are, by the way. We made it in time to save all four of you. Katniss was our main target, but we’d been watching the games. She wouldn’t leave without Peeta, and Peeta wouldn’t leave without you.” He shrugs, and you take a deep breath. ‘Of course, this is about Katniss. Who else would this be about.’ “Rue is also safe. Everyone was glad of that, of course. We had a chance to save one of the youngest kids to go into the arena, and we took it.” He blows out a breath, and you begin to wonder if this strength was a facade, as you see a small crack in it when he speaks of Rue.

“Anyway, he kept struggling, even against me. ‘Kept saying he needed to see you, to see you were safe and unharmed and make sure-” He stops, sighing heavily. “They injected him with something to knock him out while they dressed his wounds, but he’s fine.” He studies your tense posture, coming to some kind of conclusion in his head. “I’ll let you see him. Here-” He reaches forward, ready to begin pulling the tube from your arm as the curtain swings open once more.

“Haymitch-” The voice is startled, but falls quickly to stern, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Someone had to reassure this one. You saw how Peeta got.” You make a noise, mostly like a whine, but both sets of eyes turn toward you. The new person was wearing a long white coat like a doctor- you assumed that’s what they were. You nod quickly, turning back to Haymitch with wide eyes. He turns to the doctor with a smirk. “They want to see him.”

“Well, they can’t get out of bed. They’re injured, they need-”

“What they need,” Haymitch growls out, pulling the tube from your arm as you wince, and you watch his face as he begins to pull the electrodes from the different places on your body, “Is to see the man they spent close to a week protecting and healing and defending.” Haymitch glares over his shoulder, but his face falls to a kindness you hadn’t thought you’d see from him when he looks back at you. “You’ve already wrapped them up, and the rest are superficial injuries. Let them go see their friends.”

The moment all the wires were taken off, you swung your feet to the side and began to stand. You feel slightly wobbly, so you go slow, not wanting to give the doctor any other reason to argue. You can already hear whispered complaints from the doctor to Haymitch, but you ignore them both in favour of pushing the curtains aside. The room was small, filled with similar cubicles of white. You limp over to the closest, gently pulling the curtain back to peak inside. You recognize her instantly from the bushy hair lying across the pillows- a sleeping and peaceful-looking Rue lays in this bed. She was so small that the bed dwarfed her in comparison, but seeing her alive and well was enough to make your knees weak. You walk inside just enough to press a kiss to her forehead before backing out once more.

You glance over, seeing Haymitch’s stare on you as you move across the room slowly. You glance between the left and right cubicles, turning to glance at Haymitch once more. He says something to the doctor without looking at them but nods his head to the left subtly. You take this and run with it, approaching the curtains on the left. Gently, you pull back to peek.

You couldn’t explain the feeling of relief that hit you when you saw Peeta’s face lying gently on the bed. His hair just slightly fanned out around him like a blond halo, his eyes peacefully pressed closed without pressure. He looked soft, approachable- he looked like you needed to defend him, in all honesty, but you were just hoping that Haymitch’s presence meant you wouldn’t have the need to. You walk in, pulling the curtain closed behind you as quietly as you can. Similar to Haymitch earlier, you walk forward and take a seat by his legs.

You’re hesitant at first, but slowly you build up the courage to reach forward and slot one hand in Peeta’s closest one. He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the pressure of his hand grow tighter on yours, like unconsciously he wanted to hold your hand back. You realize you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself not to. You survived, you both did, after being so sure that neither of you would. It’s a miracle, honestly, and you didn’t want to risk taking your eyes off of him for even a moment.

You’re unsure how much time has passed before Peeta’s face begins to scrunch up. You tilt your head, leaning closer and reaching slowly out to place your hand on his cheek. Before you make it, his head begins to toss and turn back and forth, and little grumbles fall from his mouth. He slowly gets more and more violent with his tossing, and you finally realize he’s having a nightmare. You reach forward, placing your hand on his cheek to stabilise him and open your mouth to speak kind words when nothing would come out. Frustrated, you take your other hand from his and place it on his other cheek, holding him still.

His eyes burst open and his hands reach up, scrambling to pull you off of him before finally meeting your eyes and slowly relaxing. “Y/N?” He asks gently, eyes wide with fear and hope. You nod, smiling, and lean forward to place a gentle peck against his lips. As you pull away he chases, and you giggle softly before wincing from the pain of it. His eyes flicker down to the wrapping on your neck, then back up to your face. He’s holding both of your wrists with his hands, holding them against his cheeks. He leans into one of your hands, gently rubbing his cheek against it. “Don’t try to talk, I don’t want you to hurt on my account.”

You just shake your head fondly in response, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. His smile grows, and he begins to match your look of disbelief. “We made it, Y/N.” You nod, leaning forward, and he laughs out in relief. “Holy shit, Y/N, we made it. We’re both alive. We’re out!” He finally releases his hold on you to grab your face, dragging you closer. Your foreheads press together, matching smiles of relief and contentment between the two of you. “We made it out together.”

This was it. The hope you’d held wasn’t all for nothing. You were finally here, in each other’s hands, alive and breathing and- well, injured, but alive. You were saved from the Capitol by someone, or something. You wouldn’t be forced back into the arena, you wouldn’t be paraded in front of the Capitol and Districts as ‘Victors,’ you wouldn’t have to face the inevitability of your death at the hands of the one you loved.

Of course, the world wasn’t perfect. You were sure the Capitol would never stop hunting you down. You were sure you’d never see your family again if they even survived after your escape. You’d never be able to go back home, show Peeta the rich blue of the skies that mirrors his eyes, or visit his District. And- your mind hesitates and repeats the arena, over and over, like a flipbook. You still made a promise to yourself that you’d kill Katniss. Would you still have to, now that you’re out of the arena? If they had only wanted Katniss, but Katniss wanted Peeta- obviously she didn’t want you to come along. Would these people relent and get rid of you if she said so?

Peeta rubbed your cheeks, and your eyes reopened- you couldn’t remember when they had fallen shut. His smile is gentle as he whispers, “You back with me?” You nod gently, not wanting to displace his hands. He sighs in relief, reaching forward to gently peck your lips. “There’s nothing and no one that’ll keep us apart, now.” He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, and you let yourself fall into it. You climb fully on the bed, unwilling to part from him and wanting the comfort that only he could provide.

He was right, of course. But hearing his voice, so soft and gentle and sure, made that tingling and anxious feeling in your chest finally settle. His voice is as soft as you’d ever heard it as he whispers, “We’re finally safe now.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #gender neutral reader #tribute reader #the hunger games #fanfiction #also posted on archive of our own #ever in our favour #in the arena #fighting scene #finale #violence #descriptions of blood #descriptions of injuries

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nicksbestie · 8 months

Note

hi :) can you write a request where the reader is regressed and luke sees something that accidentally makes him slip too? and they get into (cute) messes?

Disaster

word count : 3146

warnings : none!

enjoy!

Having one little unsupervised was terms for a massive disaster, but it was even worse when there were two unsupervised littles running around, completely on their own.

Obviously, it didn’t start off like this, but it wasn’t looking like there was going to be any going back now.

It had been a completely uneventful morning in Luke and Avery’s household, everything had gone completely to routine. Lots of snuggles, kisses, little “I love you”s shared between the two, everything that was common in their everyday life. So… how did we get to both of them being running around the home together, unsupervised, and fully in headspace?

Avery had insisted that they play wedding. And, well, Luke was a sucker for his baby girl, so of course, he agreed. On one condition, and that was the fact that she had to have breakfast first, as well as getting all of her morning routine done, like brushing her teeth, hair, and getting dressed if she wanted to. She happily agreed, knowing that Daddy would let her do just about anything as long as it was safe and she did all of her things that he asked of her beforehand. He loved her too much sometimes, he had a tiny issue saying no to her.

So, after she had finished it all, Luke had finished cleaning up the dishes and sink from where they had eaten at the counter, and walked into the living room where his baby was setting up her dream wedding scene. Of course, it was very simple, but it was elegant in her mind, complete with two Ring Pops on a tiny pillow. He tried not to grimace at the thought of it getting all sticky on it, reassuring himself that he would handle it later, while she was down for a nap.

He sat down next to her, reassuring her that he thought everything looked perfect. And so the game began, them both giggling and smiling, Avery’s stuffies being their audience, ring bearer, and wedding staff, and things just snowballed from there. Before Luke knew it, he was feeling a bit fuzzy, but he pushed it to the back of his mind so that he could take care of Avery. However, that didn’t work for very long, and about thirty minutes later, he could feel himself slipping, fast. He couldn’t ask Avery to come out of headspace to take care of him, the idea seemed absolutely absurd to even consider, but he didn’t have the energy to fight his own headspace taking over his mind. So, he let it happen, and he slipped into his littlespace right next to his girlfriend.

Avery was so confused when the “you my wifes!” came out of Luke’s mouth, but she giggled when she realized he was a baby now too. She smiled, cleaning up the wedding scene, and immediately taking on the role of Luke’s “Mommy”. Well, as much as she could, being in the headspace of just a three year old herself. Luckily, Luke’s headspace was a bit younger than Avery’s, so she was able to have a little clarity of mind, being able to somewhat clean up the area. But soon after, playtime turned into an absolute disaster, lunch was forgotten, and along with that went naptime.

When they eventually got hungry, they tried to come up with something, landing on baking a wedding cake. And being the little ones they were, that turned into another mess. So now, the living room was a mess, and so was the kitchen. Both Luke and Avery were covered in the “cake batter”, and both desperately needed a bath. They should’ve been down for a nap about an hour ago, but they weren’t because there was no caregiver to set those rules.

So, Luke having a younger headspace, it only took him about another twenty minutes before he threw a tantrum. He was absolutely exhausted, the feeling of the batter on his skin absolutely disgusting, and all he wanted was a caregiver. At this point in time, he didn’t care who it was, but Avery wasn’t working. She was too little to be able to properly care for him, and she was curled up in the corner, hands over her ears, eyes wide with fright while Luke absolutely wailed with discomfort. Luckily, it would only take a few more minutes for someone to find them.

Michael was due to come over that day to do a small, impromptu, writing session with Luke in their home studio. Luke had scheduled the time to be during Avery’s nap, but he didn’t expect her to be little today. He also didn’t expect himself to be little today, but that seemed to just be the way the cookie crumbled. So when the doorbell rang, it seemed to shock Luke out of his tantrum, looking at Avery with confused eyes.

He got up before she could say anything, walking to the door with one fist rubbing at his eyes, wiping tears out of them. Luke didn’t know the rule of not opening the door to strangers, and he swung it wide open very quickly. His face lit up when he saw Michael on the other side, but he hadn’t registered that Michael would also be seeing him in this state for the first time. His little mind didn’t even consider any judgment, and he very nearly threw himself into Michael’s arms before remembering he was covered in cake batter.

It was a good thing he didn’t, because Michael just stood there in shock. He had come over for a writing session, but instead a messy Luke had answered the door, small pacifier in hand, in just a pull-up and a soft gray T-shirt. He didn’t even know how to react, especially not when Luke giggled softly and squealed a “Hi Mikey! You comes in?” He saw Luke’s face begin to fall when he hesitated to answer, so he quickly spoke out a “Yeah, Luke, I’ll come in.” He had no idea what he was walking into, and his shock only grew when he came across Avery, and the disaster of the house.

Michael had no idea what to do. Luke was sort of bouncing around him, clearly on some kind of sugar or natural euphoria high, and if he wasn’t, well, acting like a child, Michael would assume he was high off of weed or some other drug. However, Luke was stone cold sober, just with one Ring Pop in his system and his usual happy-little-one persona. Michael softly told Luke that he was going to use the bathroom, and made his way down the hallway, past all of the toys and things strewn throughout.

He didn’t know at this point that he couldn’t leave the two of them unsupervised any more than they already were, so he sat on the lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands for a few minutes while he thought about what to do. He wasn’t freaked out or anything, just overly confused and had no clue how to go about handling this situation without messing anything up, because if the house was anything to go off of, it could definitely get worse if he made the wrong moves. He had seen the dried tear tracks on Luke’s face, his blotchy cheeks and red eyes, and he knew something had gone wrong amidst whatever had happened here. So, lacking in knowing what to do, he decided to make a phone call. He quickly clicked on the familiar contact, hoping as he listened to it ring that he would pick up his phone. Luckily, he did.

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?”

“Ash? I’ve got a little bit of a problem.”

“Okay… can you elaborate?”

Michael coughed, trying to think of how to phrase this.

“Well, I came over to Luke’s to have a little impromptu writing session, because he asked me to last night, feeling inspiration or whatever…”

He trailed off, and Ashton picked up on it.

“Okay, and you’re at Luke’s now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am, but it’s weird. I got here, the place is a mess.”

Ashton was concerned, assuming a break-in, and continued to keep his tone calm.

“Like… ransacked?”

Michael sighed, just spitting it out.

“Yeah. But Luke answered the door. It’s ransacked, but with like, toys, and shit. Bottles, and the kitchen is a disaster, it’s covered in some kind of mixture, and Luke and Avery are both here.”

Ashton knew exactly what was going on now. But he didn’t say much about it, trying to get as many details from Michael first.

“Did they speak to you?”

“Luke did, in, in like a baby voice. Like a one or two year old. And Ash, he was, he was in just a shirt, and a diaper.”

Ash nodded, not that Michael could see, this information immediately confirming his suspicions.

“Where are they now, Mike?”

“They’re still in the kitchen as far as I’m aware, I’m in the bathroom, calling you.”

“Can you go find them, please? Put me on speaker once you do.”

Michael was confused but agreed, taking the phone out to the kitchen, switching it on speaker mode and motioning for Luke and Avery to move a bit closer.

“Okay. You’re on speaker.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll talk to them for a bit, if you don’t mind giving them a bit of privacy. Luke will bring the phone back to you once we’re done, won’t he, buddy?”

Michael was shocked to see the joy on Luke’s face arise when he heard Ashton’s voice, and the way that Luke immediately nodded with a joyous “mhm!”. So, he gave them some space, letting Ashton handle it.

After about twenty minutes, during which Michael had decided to clean up the living room a bit, just tidying things, Luke came toddling back into the room, brandishing Michael’s phone. He was giggling, and he waved the phone at Michael before Michael took it from his hand.

“Ashy says he gon comes ober! Says soon!”

Michael hummed a soft affirmative, keeping his tone light and a smile on his face as he picked up and folded a blanket, checking his phone to see a text from Ash. Ashton lived just a few streets over, no more than ten minutes, so he figured that he would be here any second. So, when Michael checked his phone to see a text from Ash requesting he be let in through the front door, he wasn’t surprised. He started to ask Ashton questions, but Ashton just waved him off as he walked to find the two little ones.

“I can answer all the questions later, but they’re the priority right now.”

He found the two tinies, giving Luke a big squeeze before crouching down in front of Avery, who was still dead silent, sitting far away from the rest of them. He kept his voice very low, tone soft, making sure she knew that he had no intentions to hurt her. Unbeknownst to Michael, Ashton was their secondary caregiver, always there if either one of them needed a babysitter or any extra help. So, both Luke and Avery were comfortable around him, but he could tell that Avery was a bit skittish at the moment. He figured something had happened before Michael got there that was currently affecting her.

“Hi, honey. How are you feeling, darling?”

She shook her head, a silent “no.” He softly smiled, offering her his hand. He could tell she wasn’t currently verbal, experiencing a little shutdown.

“How about we get into some clean clothes, pumpkin? I think Luke also needs some fresh pajamas. Sounds good, angel?”

He gently helped her up, holding her hand as he walked her to the bathroom, motioning for Luke to join them.

“C’mon, buddy. I won’t put you two in the bath today, but you need to get cleaned up.”

Luke dropped what he was doing, giggling as he hurried after Ashton. Once they got to the bathroom, Ashton then turned to the both of them, addressing them first.

“Are you two okay if Mikey comes and helps me get you guys cleaned up? I don’t want to cross any of your boundaries, I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Luke nodded immediately, Avery a little more hesitant, but agreeing. So, Ashton walked out to the living room, motioning to Michael to come help them.

“Hey, Mike, I need your help.”

He gets up, coming to Ashton’s side, a little bit wary, but willing.

“Can you get a damp towel and help wipe down Luke’s arms and face? He’s got a ton of failed cake batter all over him.”

Michael nodded, easily getting all of the mixture off of Luke’s body, even getting his legs, unable to hide the smile that crossed his face at Luke’s little laughter. Ashton gently cleaned off Avery, knowing she was a little bit more wary of Michael, being a shy little one. He took her hand in his, gently walking with her to her nursery, softly instructing Michael and Luke to stay put. It only took about ten minutes for him to help Avery get into some comfortable pajamas, and he easily picked her up, gently cooing at the yawn that left her mouth as she buried her face into his shoulder.

“I know, princess, I know. It’s almost naptime, sweetie, I promise.”

He held her firmly but gently on his hip, showing Michael where Luke’s nursery was. He had to pass Avery to Michael to help Luke change, and she whined a bit, but once she was comfortably settled in a warm pair of arms, nothing else really mattered. Ashton handed Michael a deco paci, one that said “Shy Baby” on it, and softly instructed him to give it to her. She took it, immediately, and let out another small yawn around it before settling back into his arms. Ashton placed a small kiss to her forehead, smiling as he helped Luke change.

“Nap, Ashy?”

“That’s right, bubba! It’s about naptime! Avery’s gonna go take a nap too.”

Luke didn’t attempt to fight off his matching yawn, hugging Ashton tightly as he gently tucked him into bed. Luke was a cuddly little, but he liked his space during naptime, being the type to kick and squirm around. Once he was settled with his blankie, stuffie, and paci, he was perfectly fine, and Ashton hummed a nonsensical song to him for about three minutes before he was out cold.

Avery was nearly asleep on Michael’s shoulder, not even stirring when she was transferred back to Ashton’s arms, and he laid her down, before laying next to her. He knew she largely preferred Luke, but he was little right now, and he and Michael were the best she was going to get. At this point, she didn’t seem to care, snuggling into his hold and clutching her stuffie so tightly. Michael went out on a limb and gently ran a hand through her hair, eyes wide with curiosity until Ashton nodded at him, and that was what eventually lulled her to sleep. The poor baby was so tired that when Ashton gently moved to get up, she barely shifted, curling into the warm spot that his body heat had left.

Which leads them to now. Him and Michael slowly closed the door, not before turning on the baby monitor that conveniently had the other end of it in the kitchen. Which, they now had to clean up. Ashton didn’t mind, though, it gave him a perfect opportunity to explain everything. Contrary to popular belief, cleaning was not something Ashton had always had to teach Michael how to do. It was a stress reaction of his. When he felt out of control, he would clean things. He’d done it when the band lived together, always feeling like that was something he could control.

So, when they both got to the kitchen, Michael tackled one side while Ashton handled the other, both taking on the disaster of the floor. They worked in silence for a few moments before Ashton spoke up.

“Thank you for helping. I know you don’t fully understand, and I know you have questions, so ask away! I’m more than happy to talk about it, within their personal boundaries, and my own.”

Michael didn’t even know where to start, to be honest with both himself and Ashton, and Ashton could see the conflict in his face, so he started the conversation himself.

“Okay, I’ll break it down for you, just the basics. They’re both age regressors, and what that means is that they both regress to a younger headspace or mindset in order to cope with childhood trauma, anxiety, or just overall mental health concerns. They switch a lot, with the other one being their caregiver, who takes care of them, feeds them, gets them down for naps, bathes them, loves them, etc. My guess is that today, one of them was little, it caused the other one to slip into their headspace, and then they missed lunch and naptime, so Luke had a tantrum. And that’s when you got there.”

Michael nodded, throwing away the paper towel he’d been wiping batter up with before speaking.

“And that helps them?”

Ashton nodded, smiling over at them.

“It does. They’re a lot more relaxed afterwards, which you’ll see when they wake up, if you choose to hang around.”

Michael hummed, clearly thinking, a question popping into his brain.

“How did you know?”

Ashton smiled at the memory.

“Luke told me ages ago, explained the whole thing to me. He had an emergency come up, and Avery was regressed. He needed a babysitter, so I gladly took her for the day. She’s very attached to Luke when she’s small, it shows a lot about how upset she was that she let us separate them. I had a girlfriend with a littlespace once, so I wasn’t completely in the dark, but every little is different.”

Michael finished cleaning up his half, leaning against the counter.

“She’s sweet. She didn’t talk to me, but she’s sweet when she’s not, what’s the word?”

Ashton filled it in for him.

“Regressed.”

“Yeah. She’s sweet when she’s not regressed, so I’m sure she is while she is regressed too. Luke was really excited, it was really cute.”

Ashton threw away the last of his garbage from cleaning, leaning against the counter next to Michael.

“They are sweet. They’re both so cute.”

“Yeah. I think I’ll stay til they wake up, if you don’t mind?”

Ashton grinned, moving so sit down on the couch.

“Of course I don’t. C’mon, sit with me, we can watch something till they wake up.”

And if Michael obsessively watched the baby monitor until they did wake up, only Ashton had to notice.

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aceofcaydes01 · 11 months

Text

I started this all the way back at the end of Season of the Lost and just now finished it.

Inspired by @a-driftamongopenstars' Old Light, New Light series.

“Are you sure?” Ace asked, looking to where her right hand was extended and her Ghost floated in her palm. He vibrated gently in a reassuring manner. “I’ve spoken with Glint, he needs you right now.” Ghost says to you through your telepathic connection. You nodded and you were instantly transmatted to the loading bay of the Radiant Accipiter.

“Crow?” You ask softly as you approach, both he and Glint looked up at the sound of your voice. You stood there for a second, trying to assess whether or not he wanted your company, only moving when you felt the gentle prod of Glint between your shoulders, urging you forward. Your armor and weapons disappeared as you stepped forward, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Ghost vanish with Glint.

“Are these eyes the ones that haunt you at night?” Crow asks, leveling you with his gaze as you approach him fully.

For years whenever you tried to sleep, all you could see in your dreams was Uldren’s glowing glare as he pulled Ace of Spades’ trigger and shattered your life.

As weird as it was, you’d found comfort in Crow. Your anger at seeing him risen as a Guardian slowly faded as you’d seen first hand how earnest he was, how innocent. He was the opposite of Uldren, the fact that he was a fellow Hunter was just cruel irony. A tentative friendship had developed after you’d saved him and Glint from Spider’s employ. Ghost urged you to tell Crow in the early stages of your friendship, you hadn’t, and were now regretting not taking his counsel.

You gaze into the warm glow of his amber eyes, and to his surprise, you smile. “No. I don’t see any trace of Uldren in your eyes, Crow.” You say, holding his gaze, and you feel his body relax slightly next to yours.

“Now I know why you always looked at me that way.” He says softly as he looks down to the knife in his hand, the one you’d given him last Dawning. He looks back up into your eyes as you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t know how.” You say quietly, knowing his mind must be reeling from whatever Savathûn said or showed him of his past life.

You put on a brave face, but you still carried the weight of Cayde’s death. The fact that you had feelings for who was once his killer wasn’t helping your guilt any. You knew that Cayde would want you to be happy, and Crow made you so so happy.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t have known what to say either, Guardian.” Crow replies, reaching out for your hand, your fingers entwine and you stand there looking out at the Dreaming City. Crow had already been in orbit there when you joined him.

“Were you going to go down there and see your sister?” You ask after a comfortable silence, hoping it isn’t a sensitive topic.

“No. I returned here to see if I would feel anything. I don’t, and it seems strange that I was on the Tangled Shore for so long and I had no idea that my former home was right there all along.” Crow replies with a shrug, turning away from the window and going to an overhead compartment, pulling you with him by your entwined fingers. “This is for you.” Crow says, holding out a blue box with white and gold stars on it and a gold ribbon.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” You reply as you accept it, feeling a blush start to color your cheeks.

“I know. I wanted to.” Crow replies, and you share a smile before you ease off the top and push away the tissue paper. Inside is a black knife with a white spade on the blade and the wings of a crow on the handle. It was an obviously expensive Eververse commission and you were speechless.

“Crow- Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You manage, turning to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug.

“You’re welcome. Now you can take us both with you, always.” Crow replies, squeezing you gently as his arms wrap around you.

#destiny 2 #cayde-6 (mentioned)#cayde-6 #crow #crow and glint #Ghost and his Guardian #Ace x Crow #so many feels #it's so fluffy I'm gonna die #destiny fanfiction #I hope this isn't trash #hunter reader #aceofcaydes01

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gothamslostboy · 1 year

Text

A Small Push

Zsasz x Male Reader

This was meant to be a small paragraph or two on my gotham blog, but I got so carried away

This is the first thing I’ve enjoyed writing so much in a while, so it’s going on the main blog

I didn’t proofread so lmk any typos

WORDS: 2107

YOU ZSASZ

Very little information is known about Victor Zsasz. Sure, everyone in Gotham knows to avoid him. They know he’s a sadistic assassin, loyal to his boss, and that he’s never been serious. The few who’ve survived him only bc the boss called him off report their pleas for life to be met with indifference, which always turns to a unrelated comment about what he’s doing later or asking about what his victim originally planned to do that day.

You see, the terrifying thing about Zsasz isn’t how great he is at his job. What sends chills down Gothamites spines at the mention of his name is how unbothered he is with human life. Where the rest of us see cold blooded murder, Victor sees Tuesday morning’s work. Nothing more important than an office worker doing paper work. Yet, no matter how perplexed a person gets, none of them have tried asking him why.

Until you came along.

It was a new day at work, having started at this diner earlier this week after police officers told you one of Gotham’s several psychos burnt down your last job. Lucky for you it was your day off, not so lucky for your coworker Lucas, but you hadn’t liked him much anyway. Despite it being a Friday, the diner was almost completely empty tonight. You had only had one customer, an older man who had been in a rush to eat. He tipped well, though his rambling about leaving before “Satan’s Strawberry Milkshake Meal” left an odd impression.

Confusion only grew in your mind when your supervisor asked if you could handle being alone for a couple hours, eyes quickly shifting between you and the clock. Before you could even finish nodding your head she pushed past you, almost knocking over the coat hanger by the door as she ran. Now you were a little pissed, not only for her abruptness, but at the fact she had been whispering to herself about “milkshake psychos”.

What was everyone’s deal tonight? Maybe you were missing some information about this side of town, you had only just moved over here for the job, starting your first shift immediately after putting the moving boxes inside your apartment. You’d have to ask the supervisor when she got back.

The bell above the door rang, and suddenly all the pieces clicked together. Victor Zsasz, cruelest killer in Gotham, had walked through your doors and was striding over to the counter. It was too late to pretend you weren’t here, his eyes had registered your paralyzed form quickly and he gave a short wave before sitting down.

Taking a deep breath, your feet moved before your mind and pulled you all the way to the backside of the counter. Now you were less then 5 feet from the man, his stare unnerving, only amplified by his almost innocently placed hands: fingers interlocked in an almost “prayer” position.

Hello welcome to Margret’s Diner, what can- what would you like this evening Sir- er, um, Mr. Vic- Mr. Zsasz? Your hand were shaking as you held your notepad, small damp marks at the end of your desperate fingers. You didn’t dare to make eye contact, not even as you heard his sudden chuckle.

Why are you so stressed? If anyone should be stressed it’s me, just had to flee a scene. And you don’t have to be so formal, it’s Zsasz.

A scene? Did he mean a crime scene- of the murder variety? Your grip tightens on the yellow paper below you, clearing your throat as if it would bring back the air squeezed out from your lungs. He lowers his head to try and enter your eyeline, obviously enjoying the effect his presence has.

I guess you- aha, you have a fair point there Zsasz. You let some pathetic chuckles fill the space in between your words, only continuing on when Victor motions his hand, amused but feeling a smidge of annoyance at your inability to speak. The adrenaline of being so close to a killer kicks in, forcing a wave of dangerous confidence to enter your system. So, Zsasz, your stance straightens and you grin a bit at his surprise when you look him in the eyes. What can I get you? From what others have said today I’m assuming a milkshake is on your menu? You can’t even believe your own words, and it seems neither can the assassin in front of you. He leans back in his chair, arms crossing as he shakes his head and smiles.

Bravo, his hands make the motion of clapping with out any sound before he leans closer, head resting in his hands. You take a tiny step back. When you picture Victor Zsasz: Gotham’s Greatest Assassin, you saw a serious man. One who would have already shot you just for making any sort of assumption about him. The casual man with a sort of relaxed beauty about him seemed almost unable to kill, but you knew better than to trust your unstable taste in men.

I had you pegged for a coward diner man, where did those words come from? What a surprise that is. His eyes are wide, too full of life for a man who just admitted to committing a crime, or at the very least running from one. You relax knowing that the annoyance he carried earlier seems gone, maybe even replaced with the same fascination for you that you had for him.

Don’t know, maybe I’m losing it. So was I right about that milkshake or what? Have my sources lied? If the pounding of your heart hadn’t been reminding you of your awakeness, you wouldn’t believe this was a real moment. Not a coward, but you’ve certainly never been a brave, confident conversationalist, and definitely not with someone so infamous as Victor.

Huh, guess I was wrong. Strawberry milkshake please, no cherry. Aren’t you a tiny bit scared I’ll kill you? He focused on you now, trying to discern any fearful tells you could have. Itching to see if you truly were insane. It’s rare he finds someone who can speak to him, even rarer that person seems to relax and enjoy the conversation. You speak over the rising sound of your heart, and scare yourself a bit by resting a hand on the counter and leaning towards the man dressed in black.

If you killed me, who would make the milkshake? You don’t know where the ingredients are and then you’d have a body in your way! Doesn’t seem ideal for a relaxing milkshake. You let a big grin cover your face when it’s apparent Victor enjoyed your answer, laughing and moving just a bit closer. He lets his head flop to the side, catching in in his right hand while pointing at you with his left.

Oh you are fun. Also new here. I come here every week, surprised no one told you. Kinda well known around here. He jokingly rolls his eyes as he finishes his sentence.

He meant it. You are fun, he’s gonna have to keep you around. No matter the cost. It’s obvious to him this is at least partially a front, your hand is more relaxed, but still shaking. But even still, he doesn’t meet people who joke with him on the day to day. Only other assassins, even then it’s typically not good natured, and they usually end up dead. But you. He doesn’t even know your name but he’s on the edge of his seat waiting for you to reply. You’re cute. You’re funny. And you’re blushing everytime he gets closer, Victor doesn’t think you even noticed that you were.

Zsasz made a promise to himself the day he realized he was different from those around him. The day he realized no one else enjoyed watching the pain of others, no one enjoyed causing it, when he observed quick movements in the opposite direction as he walked towards ppl, the day he pieced together it wasn’t normal to relish in that. Victor Zsasz promised himself that when he found someone he didn’t want to hurt, even a little bit, he wouldn’t let them escape. Lucky day, he found you. Even with his favorite torture methods & his favorite weapons, no scenario in his mind felt right, at least not the unconsentually violent ones. You’re voice fades into his mind. He hadn’t even realized he zoned out.

Zsasz? You ok there? What did you get shot fleeing? are you gonna die on me? Your real concern, hidden behind sarcasm didn’t escape him. How cute. Looking you in the eyes Victor answers.

Nah I’m to good for that. Thinking about you. Wanna make yourself a milkshake too? My treat! He slams his hand on the table, expectingly waiting for you to comply.

Well, it is a slow day, why not! Walking over to the blender, a question nags at you. Hey Zsasz? You take a deep breath again before deciding to commit. Ask ya’ a question?

Sure diner man, if you can do two things. He holds up two fingers, and opens up the jar of maraschino cherries you were struggling with. Numero uno: you can call me Victor now, you’re fun. Numer dos: let me know your name! Diner man is fun an’ all, but it’s unfair you know mine.

Victor pops a cherry in his mouth as he waits for the blender to stop. Never taking his gaze away from his new prize.

Oh shit, sorry. Totally forgot. Um, Y/N, Y/N L/N! And well, I guess I was wondering- I just wanna know- I’m curious how you do it? For the first time since the beginning of Victor’s visit, you’re too nervous to look at him. What if he thought that was too personal? You place a straw in his milkshake and slide it over to him, gasping when his hand wraps around your wrist.

Don’t get all shy on me L/N, we are having so much fun. I do a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be specific. He notices your hesitancy to continue and pulls you into him, almost spilling his milkshake as he whispers in your ear. I don’t bite, well, unless you want me to handsome. He lets you pull back and winks, sipping at his cool drink.

You do the same, hoping it will combat the heat flooding your body, hoping it’s not, but knowing it is very visible on your cheeks. Alrighty Victor, he loves how you say his name, intently locking his eyes on your fidgeting hands. How do you kill? How come the cops never catch you off guard? Why don’t you have to take it seriously?

Huh. No one’s ever asked him that. His new favorite possession is braver than most.

Because I’m good at what I do Y/N. It’s easy, just pull the trigger, push the button, stab, I could do it in my sleep. I don’t take it seriously because how’s that fun? He leans back and smiles a bit, intrigued at how much more terrified you were to ask the question than you are hearing the answer. Infact, it seems you’ve forgotten that people are supposed to be disturbed when they hear this. Y/N L/N seems almost, jealous, that Victor Zsasz can do this.

I could teach you, friend. Makes good money. Definitely more fun then a diner job. He cuts off your protest quickly. You don’t have to do the whole “I’m a good person” act, I can see it in your eyes. I don’t think you were joking when you said your losing it Y/N. You just need some one to push you along, Victor stand up, slowly walking all the way to the other side of the counter until he’s face to face with you. His lips hovering barely over yours. Let me push

You get lost in his dark eyes for a second contemplating. Maybe he’s not so crazy. Life is the crazy thing. People like Lucas were crazy. He always bugged you at your last job, constantly asking you to work overtime. Why should you have to do extra because he had a bad life? Maybe what you had done made sense. I mean the police had believed that the building burning was Jerome Valeska, they hadn’t even noticed the gun shot wound. It wouldn’t be so easy if it was wrong, right? Okay, you connect your lips, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. You pull back for air, reestablishing eye contact.

Teach me, push me over the edge

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herroyalhighnessqueenmomo · 2 years

Text

Faded Memories (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader) |Part 2|

Warnings: I do not own the song that is used here. Also swearing and angst up ahead.

Nancy was at your parent’s house. She came over to comfort you after you had called crying once you hung up with Eddie telling her you were second. She supportively told you that it didn’t matter how Eddie saw you, that you were still number one. To her you were her number one. It warmed up your heart a bit but it wasn’t the same. Nancy sighed as she sat at your desk and did a double take at the journal that laid open to the page where your song was. She grabbed the journal and began reading the lyrics. “What’s this?” She asked you. You simply shrugged. “Just something stupid I was working on. It was gonna be a song but I don’t think its any good.” You had explained. Nancy finished reading and looked up at you. “Y/N this is beautiful. You have to sing this to Eddie.” She stated.

You shook your head quickly. “No, Nope. Absolutely not.” You got up and grabbed the journal from her hands. “Why not? You always struggled to figure out how to tell him how you feel. This song is perfect.” Nancy stated her case. You shook your head again. “I already told you that I’m not telling him how I feel. It’s pointless, he doesn’t feel that way about me. Its a for sure rejection.” She huffed. “It is not a for sure rejecti-” “Nancy he basically told me I am second best right after his bitchy fiancée. Even if he didn’t reject me I’m always going to think of myself as his second choice. I can’t do that.” You said. “Well at least do it to get it off your chest. I’m sure its weighing on you a lot.” You didn’t say anything because she was right. It was like the weight of the world was on you. Which might have been fitting since Eddie pretty much was your world. “See? You know I’m right.”

The two of you dropped the conversation and just talked the way the two of you usually did. You’d talk about everything under the sun.

******************************************************

The weekend hit and it was time for Eddie’s bachelor party. Something about the event made you nervous. You wore your old Hellfire club t-shirt and a black suspender skirt with your signature combat boots. You drove over to the Hideout. You made sure to arrive at least 20 minutes later than the planned time. You generally were a punctual person but this was your attempt to try and appear casual about the whole event. Once you walked in you saw the Hellfire club members and Steve sitting at a table. The older members were drinking while the younger ones being Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will just chatted alcohol influence free. “Well if it isn’t my favorite girl. I was starting to think you weren't coming.” Eddie got up and walked towards you. His favorite girl? Just the other day he said you were his second favorite. You ignored his slip up. He is obviously not himself. He gave you a huge bear hug and then kissed the top of your head. “Munson, are you already drunk?” You asked him. He scoffed. “No I can handle my liquor better than that babycakes.” Well that was a new nickname. “But I am definitely high.” He then busted out into a fit of giggles. You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face.

Eddie led you to the table and as he pulled out his seat for you, your eyes landed on a tattoo on his arm you hadn't noticed before. "Eds, is that a new tattoo?" You asked as you took your seat. He sat down beside you and then you pointed at it. He looked down at it. "Oh. Yeah. Kendra said this the other day, kinda loved it so much I tattooed it." You took a moment to read it. Honesty plus love will get you through most situations. It was not an outlandish quote. In fact, it was mediocre at best. Definitely wasn't worth tattooing.

You tried your best to give a fake smile. "Wow, that's so...different." You said. "Yeah. After Kendra said it I just wanted that reminder from her always with me." He said.

"Sounds like she has you pretty whipped." Gareth stated causing you to snort and the guys to laugh also. "Say what you want but as far as I'm concerned, I'm the only here who is actually getting some." He stated with a level of smugness that at any other time you would find insanely attractive but this time you fought so hard not to roll your eyes. You instead scoffed. "Yeah sure, that you know of." You said as you got up and walked towards the bar. You don't even know why you said it. You were pretty sure he was. You just wanted to say something that would wipe that smug smirk off his face. The guys all stared at you as you left. You hadn't paid any attention.

"The hell does that mean?"Eddie asked as he thought out loud. The guys shrugged. "Seems like Y/N is implying that she's getting some too." Jeff said taking a sip of his drink. Eddie almost laughed. "Absolutely not. Nope."

Steve got a little annoyed by Eddie's attitude. "What? You don't think she could get any?" He asked. Eddie looked at him. "No, because if she did she would have told me." He said with a matter of fact tone. "What makes you think she'd tell you?" Steve asked. "We tell each other everything." Eddie replied. He took a swig of his drink. Something about this whole conversation just bothered Steve though. Maybe it was the way Eddie seemed too sure of himself or the way he dismissed the thought too quickly. "Well obviously not everything because she told me." Steve blurted out. Eddie damn near broke his neck by how fast he turned to look at Steve. "Bullshit."

"I'm serious." "With who?" Eddie asked. He couldn't believe it. Steve shrugged. "I don't remember, she said it was some guy she met at the library." He bullshitted. "The library?" Eddie asked. "Uh yeah...something about them reading the same book and he asked her out to dinner." Suddenly Steve mastered the element of bullshitting and Eddie was really starting to believe him. "Why the hell didn't she tell me? I would've been happy for her." Eddie was frustrated beyond belief. In fact he was borderline pissed. Why? He wasn't even sure. "Uh...buddy you've been busy planning a wedding and practically neglecting her." Steve said. "Neglecting her? Did she tell you that?" He asked. He hated the mere implication. Steve shook his head. "She didn't have to tell me that. I can see it, I have eyes Munson."

Eddie was really getting worked up by this. He stood up. "I'm going out for a smoke." He said and walked out it seemed almost too obvious that he was livid. "What just happened?" Dustin asked. No response from anyone.

By the time Eddie got out the door you had made it back from the bar with a glass in each hand. "Where'd Eddie go?" You asked as you went to sit down. "Apparently to go smoke." Steve replied. You gasped in general annoyance. "Are you shitting me? I have been working so hard to try and get him to quit smoking cigarettes." Steve went to grab the second drink that you had. You slapped his hand. "Excuse me, these are both for me." You said. Steve looked at you with some shock. "You got two glasses of screwdrivers for yourself?" He asked. You nodded. "I am trying to catch up to you guys. Plus I told the bar tender to give me another two once I am done with these." You replied and took a deep sip of your first glass. You moaned out with satisfaction. "God damn that's good. I needed this." You looked up to see the guys all staring at you. "Is there something on my face?" You asked placing a hand over your mouth.

"Didn't realize you liked drinking that much." Dustin said breaking the silence. You shrugged. "More like every once in a while I need to indulge. This is one of those times." You said taking another sip. "So Y/N, Steve was telling us that you're seeing someone-"Will began trying to make conversation. You spit out your drink and looked at Steve with wide eyes. Steve looked away from your gaze. He cleared his throat. "Uh yeah, sorry Y/N. Just kinda slipped up. Didn't mean to out your secret like that." He said. You were utterly confused. "And um...why did this come up?" You asked. "Well after you implied that you were uh...getting some... the guys were curious. Eddie didn't seem to think it was true so I just confirmed it." Steve explained. Eddie didn't believe you were seeing someone? Why wouldn't he believe it? Should you be offended? "So I told him how you met him at the library." You looked at him. The library? Was that the best he could do? Guess it could have been worst. "I think Eddie is a bit offended that you didn't tell him though." Steve added. "He was?" You asked. Steve nodded.

You made sure not to smile at that statement. Eddie still deeply cared about your relationship... friendship. You took another sip of your drink. You saw the door open and in came Eddie. He still appeared visibly irritated. He didn't say anything as he sat down smelling like the cigarette he just smoked. "Eds I thought you were quitting." You said. He didn't look at you. He refused. "And I thought we told each other everything. Guess we're both wrong." He deadpanned. His bluntness caught you off guard. "Seriously? Why are you so upset, Eddie?" You asked. You weren't expecting it to bother him so much. "I just thought you were always honest with me. I never thought you would hide things from me." He stated. Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "She didn't hide anything from you man. She just didn't get the chance to tell you." Steve said defending you. Eddie finally looked at you. "When the hell were you planning on telling me?" He asked.

You were at a loss for words. The hell were you supposed to say. "I um...was gonna tell you today, actually." You stammered. Eddie didn't look like he believed you but he didn't bother asking you anything else. Everyone basically tried to move on from the now awkward conversation. You on the other hand were trying to drown your thoughts by getting to the bottom of your glasses. You got up once again to grab the other two glasses from the bar. The guys looked at Steve. “Is Y/N okay? She seems a little off.” Mike questioned him. Steve didn’t know how to respond. “Yeah she usually doesn’t ever stay this quiet.” Dustin said. “Or drink this much.” Gareth added fully knowing you never went past drinking two glasses of alcohol before. Eddie was quiet too. Was something really wrong with his best friend? Why would Steve know and not him? Eddie was slowly starting to freak out in his head that he was possibly losing you as his friend. That was something he refused to let happen. “I’m sure she’s fine. I think she’s been stressed at work is all.” Steve said as he managed to come up with an excuse.

You came back excited to be carrying two more glasses. You sat back down and didn’t waste time to start drinking. “Y/N.” Eddie said your name softly trying to get your attention. “Be honest. Are you okay?” He asked. The question caught you off guard. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “You’ve been acting really weird.” Jeff stated. “Just answer the question.” Eddie pressed. Next thing you knew your attention was taken away when Bernie the owner of the Hideout came to the table. “Guys I’m having a bit of an emergency. Our performer canceled tonight. Do you think your band could play?” He asked looking at Eddie. “We can’t. We don’t have any of our stuff or anything prepared. I’m here for my bachelor party. Eddie explained. Bernie looked beyond stress. “Shit, the evening rush is gonna be coming in less than five minutes and they’re all gonna be expecting something being played live.” He said as he freaked out. Something clicked in your head. “I can go up.” You stated. You weren’t sure why you volunteered yourself. Maybe it was the fact that you downed three glasses of OJ and vodka but you had an odd amount of confidence. “You will?” Eddie asked. He hadn’t realized you had performed anything before. For argument’s sake you hadn’t but you were suddenly willing to try. You nodded. “Are you sure?” Bernie asked you. “Sure, why not?” Bernie had a huge smile on his face. “Kid, you’re a lifesaver. Is there anything specific you need for your performance?” You thought for a second. “You by chance have an acoustic guitar back stage?” Bernie nodded. “Yeah. Just the one. Why don’t you head back there and get ready.” You got up without a word and went backstage. You had been back there many times in the past after Eddie’s gigs to always tell him how great he was. This time was different since that obviously wasn’t the case. You found the guitar and grabbed it. You leaned against the wall behind you as you strummed the guitar to see if it needed tuning and it definitely did.

After tuning it you decided to spend the next few minutes to practice playing the beat of the song. You already knew how it was supposed to go. You just wanted to make sure it sounded right. A minute later Bernie walked up to you. “Okay we’ve worked up a pretty big crowd. Its time for you to go up. Are you ready?” He asked. You took in a shaky breath and nodded. He walked you to a stool in the middle of the stage. You took a seat and he then left to pull the curtains open. Your heart started to beat incredibly fast as the stage lights blinded you. You looked out to the crowd. There was easily about 30 people out there. Your eyes met Eddie’s as he appeared to be studying you. He was generally curious to see how you would do. The mic went on and you cleared your throat. “Um hi. I-I’m Y/N L/N. I don’t usually perform here. Actually...I don’t perform at all so this will be my first time.” You stated. “Just sing something already!” Some guy shouted from the crowd which made you nervous. “Hey shut the hell up.” Eddie turned to look at the guy. The guy thankfully didn’t say anything else. “So I’m going to sing this song I wrote. It’s called Honest. It is pretty important to me.”

You started to strum the guitar. You took a deep breath and began to sing.

Listen, I've got something to tell you. You looked up to Eddie. As you sang.

And no, I don't know how it'll sound. I was never good at conversations. Whisper when I meant to scream out. You took in another breath and looked back down at the guitar in your hands. All of these feelings are saying, That I could never find a better love, better love than you. The silence is killing me, doll. The chorus was coming up. You thought. That's how I know I haven't said enough. Said enough. If my heart had a voice. It'd cut through the chaos, cut through the noise. If my heart had a choice. I'd tell you the stories. I'd always avoid. I'd be honest to you, honest to God. If my heart had a voice. You decided to look back up at the crowd who was deathly quiet. Distance won't make me forget you. This line made you think of how you didn’t get to spend any time with him during the two months and yet you still thought about him. Won't you please just ask me to stay. I know that I can be frustrating. Promise you, my touch will explain. All of these feelings are saying. That I could never find a better love. Better love than you. The silence is killing me, doll. That's how I know I haven't said enough. Said enough. If my heart had a voice. It'd cut through the chaos, cut through the noise. If my heart had a choice. I'd tell you the stories. I'd always avoid. I'd be honest to you, honest to God. If my heart had a voice. You began to hum the harmony as you strummed. You took another deep breath. If my heart had a voice. It'd cut through the chaos, cut through the noise. If my heart had a choice

I'd tell you the stories. I'd always avoid. I'd be honest to you, honest to God. You stopped strumming as you had completed the song. You hadn’t realized it until now that there was tears in your eyes.

The crowd was silent for a bit but then everyone started clapping and cheering. You breathed in deeply. The breath was shaky. Tears kept streaming down your face. They wouldn’t stop. You put the guitar down and walked out of the building. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from all the emotions that were coming at you all at once. You took a deep breath. You leaned forward and placed your hands on your knees as you breathed out. The door opened but you were too distraught by your emotions to even process the fact that someone was approaching you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your back that you realized your weren’t alone. “Baby, you did so great.” It was Eddie. Your muse. Did he know? “I didn’t realize you could sing. I’m so proud of you.” He showed his support as he kept rubbing circles on your back. You stood up straight. “Thank you.” You said almost in a hushed tone. Eddie brought you into his arms. “That guy isn’t worth it if he’s making you feel that way.” You heard him say softly into your ear.

You were confused by his comment. “Huh?” “That guy, you’re seeing. From the library.” He said. Oh my god. He really didn’t know then. He pulled away from you and rested his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. “The song was about him. Wasn’t it?” He asked. You had two options. Either lie through your teeth and just say you were planning on leaving this so called library guy. Or you could tell the truth and be honest with him. That’s what your wrote the song about anyways. Being honest with yourself and him. That would be the right thing right? “No. It wasn’t.” You admitted. “Then who was it-” “It was about you.” You stated cutting him. It felt like all the air in your lungs was just sucked right out of you. The silence between the two of you was deadly. “I love you. I’m in love with you.” You said as you broke the silence. “Y/N...” “You shouldn’t marry Kendra. Y-You can’t marry her.” “Y/N. You’re drunk.” He tried to argue. He found this all too hard to believe. “I-I’m not.” You shook your head. “Yes you are. You need to go home Y/N. You don’t know what you’re saying.” He said as he grabbed your arm and began to pull you inside. “Yes. I do. Why won’t you believe me?” You asked as he stayed quiet. Eddie made his way back to the table with you. “Harrington take her home.” He said to Steve.

Steve looked confused. “Why? The party isn’t over.” He said. “It is for her. She’s drunk.” Eddie argued. Steve shook his head. “She seems fine to me-” “Well she’s not fine, so please take her home.” “Eddie I-” You wanted to defend your sobriety but Eddie wouldn’t have any of it. “Harrington. Now.” “Alright fine. Jesus Christ man.” Steve got up from his chair walked over to you. “Come on Y/N. Lets get you home.” You started crying again. The waterworks coming right back. You didn’t say anything as you walked back out by yourself. You walked all the way to Steve’s car. Steve followed shortly after. He opened the car for you and you got into the passenger seat in silence. “Y/N are you-” “Just drive Steve.”

You kept crying as Steve obliged and started his drive towards your house. You sniffled. “I told him Steve.” You finally spoke. “I finally told him how I felt, and he didn’t believe me.” You explained. “He didn’t?” He asked as he turned to look at you briefly. You shook your head. “No. He said I was just drunk." You sniffed and wiped your nose. "I know I was drinking a lot but I-I...I'd know if I was drunk." You cried even more. Steve was so angry at Eddie at wasn't even funny but he said nothing about it.

****************************************************************************************

That next day the four of you were at Family Video again. "I just don't get why he wouldn't believe you." Robin was furious. "It doesn't make any sense. I mean you were sober enough to play guitar and sing that song. That man is an idiot." She continued. Nancy rubbed your back. "I'm really proud of you Y/N. I know how hard that must have been for you." She said. You tried so hard not to cry this time. "It just hurts so much. He didn't even want to consider that it might've been true, despite if I was sober or not.” You clutched your chest. “It hurts to think about him. It just hurts to even see him.” You say. “Then don’t.” Robin replied. “I can’t just not see him, Robin. It feels like he is everywhere. Hell I’m even supposed to go to his wedding. I can’t just avoid him. Hawkins is too small.” She looked deep in thought. “You’re right. Hawkins is too small. but you can leave.” You were confused. She wanted you to leave Hawkins? “Do you not want me around?” You asked. “Well of course I do but not if it means you’re not happy, and lets face it, you haven’t been happy here in a long time. I think you could use a fresh start. One where Eddie isn’t around.” Robin explained to you.

All she really wanted was what is best for you and she did bring up a great point, there was no way you’d be happy here in Hawkins. It started to feel like you were living life in hell. As if life had seen all your fears and worst nightmares and decided to make it a brutal reality that you honestly couldn’t stand. The idea was tempting to say the least. “I guess a fresh start would be nice...but I would miss Eddie too much. I would miss you guys too much. Hawkins is my home. You guys are my home.” You said as the thought brought tears to your eyes. “No this isn’t fair. Y/N shouldn’t have to leave because Eddie is the biggest dumbass to walk this Earth, okay? It should be him leaving.” Steve interjected. You shook your head. “Yeah but that isn’t gonna happen obviously. Look Robin is right. If I want a fighting chance to heal and to survive this heartbreak I need to leave.” Nancy started to cry now. “Y/N you can’t leave. You’re my best friend. What about all of our movie nights? Our late night chats over the phone? I don’t want to lose all of that.” You hugged her and also cried freely. “We can still talk over the phone when I leave Nance. This is something that I have to do. Eddie made his choice. No it’s time to make mine.”

Taglist:

@thegirlthatsfalling

@fangirling-4-ever

@lechera-con-leche

@toomanybandstocare

#Spotify #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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guesswhojusttt · 3 months

Text

when I’ve learned how to love

Covey!Reader x Sejanus Plinth

Summary:

Lucy Gray is Reaped. The Covey each handle it in different ways.

When she comes back, you're all not sure how much of her she's left behind.

You are nothing but hatred and anger and desperation- a tall boy with soulful brown eyes somehow carries the same anger, but kindness, too.

AO3

Chapter 1: one foot in the door

Word count: 6891

Summary: When the first punch flies, it’s you who pulls the plug and kills the lights.

“Still awake?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

“Lucy Gray-“

“Let it go, sweetheart. There’s nothing any of us can do and we all know it.” What killed you was the resignation in her voice: while you knew her voice when she wasn’t on stage, while you knew what she was like when she wasn’t flirting or charming or singing, she rarely sounded so defeated, so utterly deflated. But under the black veil of this cold night, where you both huddled under a scratchy green blanket while CC snoozed on the couch and Barb Azure curled up on a yellowing mattress, there was no need for pretense.

Still.

Still. “Still, you could just go hide out at the lake house and-”

“And what? And let someone else get reaped? Maybe- maybe someone younger? Maybe Maude Ivory? Is that what you want, for Maude Ivory to be carted away-?”

“Of course not,” you hissed, clutching your threadbare pillow like it was a stuffed animal, “I just meant, it’s stupid how it’s rigged, all because of some petty love triangle.”

She scoffed, her dark locks pooling round her head while she stared up the ceiling. “No love there. Besides, I only think Mayfair’s tried to do me in. It’s just a hunch; I don’t actually know. I could be wrong.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“Hm. At least if you go hide away- let me finish!- then whoever’s reaped, it won’t be because of some privileged mayor’s daughter, it’ll be a random name, a slip plucked by chance, at least it’ll be fair-“ but you bite your tongue, and she didn’t say it and neither did you: the word fair was a cruel joke, now. Always was, really. “I just… I don't want you to die, or to come back traumatized for life. It’ll be bad either way, you know? Death or a life plagued with nightmares.”

A silence stretched out over you, the only sounds of sleep were Clerk Carmine’s near-inaudible snores, Tam Amber’s head shuffling on his pillow, and Barb Azure’s soft puffs of air out the nose, Maude Ivory curled next to her. You wondered if Lucy Gray had decided to sleep now, too- until she poked you just below your rib cage.

“Thank you.”

“For worrying about you? We’re all-“

“For so naturally assuming I’ve an equal chance of living as of dying. For not speaking of me as if I’m already dead. For even considering that there’s a possibility I might survive this.”

“Well, of course you do,” you said obviously, “we’ve survived District 12.”

The next day, there’s this silent, mutual agreement amongst yourself and the Covey that Maude Ivory shouldn’t watch the Reaping- she never does; you can’t let her. Once when you were 6 or 7 this woman was reaped but refused to go- the Peacebreakers (Peacebreakers, you call them) had dragged her, kicking wildly and screaming ferally, and when they’d dropped her in a heap on the stage she’d try to run off only for them to yank her back. She’d shrieked and lashed wildly, swinging her arms in haphazard attempts at self defense- and no matter how they beat her, she wouldn’t succumb- until she did. Until they had to call up another tribute, and her mangled corpse, beaten to a raw pulp like a smashed pumpkin, was dragged silently away by her husband.

So, no. You wouldn’t let Maude Ivory see the reaping.

“Hey, I’m actually feeling a little nauseous,” you said tenderly, “could you stay, please? It’s too scary for me.”

“You’re such a scaredy-cat!” Maude Ivory giggled, but stayed with you the same while Barb Azure and Tam Amber and the rest went to the Reaping. You kept her entertained by teaching her how to do a fishtail braid.

It really all was less than a theory, a paranoid guess. It was natural to assume Mayfair would use her position to harm Lucy Gray, but would she really go this far?

This was the deal: you kept her occupied during the reaping, but when they came back, when she asked where Lucy Gray was- and none of you would lie to her, you would not keep her in the dark because honesty, honesty and communication fix half the world's problems- but the deal was, since you kept her occupied, you wouldn’t have to explain what had happened to her. Instead, you went to a client’s house in the Seam, to a little 5-year old named Nathaniel, to play with him and feed him and keep him company while his father went off to work in the mines. Mother long since dead, birthing what would’ve been his little sister. Honestly, you felt guilty for charging money for spending time with children, as if you did it only for pay and saw them as a product rather than as human beings you genuinely cared for. But this line of thinking was ridiculous: you needed money like anyone, and you were able to earn it while helping parents too busy to stay home and raise their kids.

After him was a bright 10 year old, Makayla, who needed tutoring since, despite her teacher’s efforts, nothing she learned in school stuck. Truly, it wasn’t her fault: she just had a hard time paying attention or absorbing information on an empty stomach.

And everyone here lives on an empty stomach.

None of the Covey so much as suggested playing at the Hob, or anywhere else. It was sort of like you’d all lost a tooth and were constantly running your tongue over the gap, and chewing always feels strange, now. You pick up more shifts, keep yourself busy every hour of daylight, both to avoid sitting with your thoughts and to make an income to make up for the lack of any performance.

“And how’s everyone’s favorite lost soul doing today?” You plopped next to Tam Amber, who was polishing his tear-drop shaped mandolin with a threadbare rag that had been oiled and used again and again- used to be part of a loose white shirt. And here was the thing about quiet people- around the right person, they’re more talkative than anyone.

“Thinking.”

“About?”

“Wish I had some oil for the doors, and olive oil for my hair would be nice.”

“Is that really what’s put your face in a permanent frown?”

He heaves a sigh. “If I’d been reaped. What I would do, how I’d survive. And I’ve played it out in my head again and again and come to the same conclusion: I wouldn’t.”

“No? But you’re faster than any of us.”

“Sure, but I haven't got any muscle. None of us do, so the victors are probably going to be someone from districts one or two. Three or four, barely. You?”

“Me…” you reclined next to him, crossing your ankles before you, “I’d hide, if there’s a place to hide, but I’d probably get caught and killed before that. I wouldn’t kill anyone, though. Or at least I like to think I wouldn’t. Not because I’m a good person or because killing is wrong- because it’s self defense and it’s an arena and all but one will die anyway - but because I feel like if I did kill someone I'd be giving in. I’d be giving them what they want: a show, a bloodbath. I know it won’t mean a thing to anyone watching, I know being one of the many to die in the battle royale makes me insignificant at best, but I’d like to know I died without succumbing to their wishes. You can drag a horse to an arena but you can’t make it run.”

He nods silently. Pinched the rag over the mandolin’s first string, running it down its length and back again. “If Lucy Gray doesn’t live, what’ll we do? Keep doing what we’re doing now? How will we explain it to Maude Ivory?”

“Maybe she’ll live,” you shrugged, “maybe we’ll all storm the Capitol-“

“Not this again-“

“There’s more of us than there is of them-“

“But they have more weapons, more food, they’d outsurvive-“

“They’re privileged and pampered, they wouldn’t last a week-“

“The rebellion’s still fresh in their minds, there’s military men and not to mentioned trained Peacebreakers-“

“Then we’ll all go on strike-“

“Oh, yes, that worked out so well for District 8-“

“What else, Tam Amber? You know full well the only thing keeping me sane is devising increasingly elaborate strategies of overthrowing the Capitol! It’s not impossible,” you added eagerly, “you know what else seemed impossible to abolish? Divine right. Did you know, thousands of years ago, there were kings and queens that ruled over nations and credited it to divinity, so they could assert control and no one could do a thing about it.”

“Sounds like what we have now.” Tam Amber grumbled, now polishing the long, elegant neck of his mandolin. “We didn’t get rid of it, we’ve just replaced it.”

“Not quite, because now, anyone- I mean, anyone in the Capitol who gets an education and has connections and wealth- can become President. It obviously doesn’t include any of us, but at least it leaves the ground open for us to do it, unlike divine right, which keeps authority within the bloodline.”

“So what do you say? We stage a coup, guillotine the Capitol sheep?”

“At least it would be some thing,” you fumed, “every day of my life feels like a waste, you know? What’s the point in babysitting and tutoring these kids who are just going to grow up to be even more miserable and malnourished than they are now? Remember that girl I spent two years looking after, only for her to be Reaped? You know what we need.”

“No.”

“Just hear me out-“

“We do not need a rabies-“

“Outbreak! That would fix everything.”

“We’d all die out while they hoard their precious resources. They have better access to medication than we do.”

“No, because it would only happen there, not here.”

“Then District 1 would replace the Capitol.”

But you went to bed like you always did, except you shared the scratchy green blanket with Barb Azure tonight instead of Lucy Gray.

When the feed was finally rigged up with a makeshift antenna-foil contraption, and the interview flickered to life, you huddled on the couch next to Tam Amber, while CC and Maude Ivory sat criss-cross applesauce[1] before the screen and Barb Azure sat aloft on the couch arm at a careful, if awkward, angle. She could sit next to you, but chose firmly to be on the other side, and you were equal parts guilty and indignant because you knew the fight was, admittedly, mostly your fault.

“She’s alive,” said CC breathlessly.

“She looks awful,” you muttered, unsurprised by the raw heartbreak in your voice, “it- I don’t know why, but I assumed they’d give them enough food and water to make it into the tournament?”

Tam Amber heaved a sigh. “Enough for them is just barely to keep them from collapsing. Remember, we’re less than animals to them.”

“Her dress! She’s still wearing her mom’s dress!” Maude Ivory leaned closer to the screen, wide grin pinching her cheeks into dimples. Even in her cheer, what was between the lines wasn’t hard to miss: she’d thought, at least a little, that they’d take it away from her.

But her hair was matted and knotted- and that must be killing her, more than it would you, considering how she values her appearance- half-crescents stamped beneath her weary eyes. You could tell she’d cleaned up, she’d washed her face and hands and had likely smoothed out her rainbow ruffles a dozen times and a dozen more, but the sallowness of her cheeks, the peeling of her parched lips- even with all the energy she put on before the camera, you wondered privately if sleep deprivation or raw thirst and starvation would crumple her to her knees before the audience.

“What’s with that guy?” Barb Azure’s eyebrows tugged to a frown, the same tone of “what’s with that garbage?”

“The one with a funny mustache, I think he’s there to add some entertainment.” Stated CC thoughtfully.

“No, the one staring at her, right? He reminds me of someone but I can’t put my finger on it.” You mused.

“I don’t like it.” Tam Amber agreed.

“He looks like he adores her.” Said CC.

“Like he’s proud of her!”

“No, like he thinks he owns her.”

“I don’t know, those eyes seem pretty passionate either way. You don’t think they…?”

“I think he’s nervous. Like if she does poorly it’ll reflect on him.”

“Well, now I hope she does do something embarrassing just so it does bring shame on him. I mean, what are they gonna do, kill her?” When she sings, you find yourself first relieved she has her voice and second, a near-imperceptible twitch of your fingers, running to pick at the blemishes on your face, and- as soon as the broadcast cut off- stated you were going out to get some water.

Your thoughts came one after the other, like a necklace whose string was cut and now the beads all slipped away:

I don't know who I want to kill first, but I guess the order doesn’t matter if it ends with both their corpses in a ditch.

Or the lake- no, can’t subject the poor fish to such rotten meat.

Since Billy Taupe is CC’s brother, we can’t actually kill him, can we?

No, but we sure can traumatize him.

This is why, you know? Why I’m so angry at Barb Azure for- for seeing that girl. Hasn’t she seen what romantic relationships do to people? All the fighting, the arguing, the yelling- how quickly their love turns to loathing!

You trudged down the Seam, eyes ablaze. The clouds above you are dusted pink and orange- with the sunrise came a dark night, all the better for paranoia, for jumping at the slightest sounds.

All the better to avoid being caught.

I’ll get them back.

I won’t. I can never truly- even if I tear them limb from limb- it’s not enough, nothing will ever make up for losing her- she’s a piece of us and no amount of revenge-

I can take a long white string, tie it around a tooth, tie the other end to a doorknob and slam the door and rip their teeth out one by one from its roots until their gums are loose and gushing and- why bother? Nothing, neither torture nor death, undoes what they’ve done. And that’s the issue with revenge, isn’t it? It’s just not satisfying enough. Nothing is.

Except Lucy Gray coming back?

No, because there’s a chance one of us will be reaped some day. Again and again until we’re too old, but if any of us have kids we’ll live with that fear just the same. It’s a cycle and the only way out is- is- to fix it or to flee.

But you were wasting your time: you always were. While at first you were naive enough to voice your views, idealistic enough to think that it was so obvious that once you explained it, your friends… would what? Agree? Yes, you had even thought one would side with you and be angry on your behalf. Would defend you. But they didn’t, ignorant and stupid and selfish as they were, privileged as they were- no. Where were these thoughts coming from? You love them. They’re your family. Not one of them is selfish, not one of them is ignorant. What kind of thoughts are these? You don’t believe them, yet they intrude as the most unwelcome of guests: They don’t care about you unless you don the tightest mask. They’ll never understand you; how could they? You could not speak of your passions, or your beliefs, of your values or-

“Stop.” Stupidly enough, you did- and it was Barb Azure who whirled on you. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing.” You said, and before Barb Azure could roll her eyes, you added hastily. “Oh, come on, I haven’t done any harm! I just wanted to give them a good scare, not actually hurt them- just give them paranoia so they can’t sleep at night like the rest of us. It’s only fair.”

(There it was, that cruel word again, the same one when talking to Lucy Gray that night: fair.)

(What is fair, anyway?)

Barb Azure worried at her lip, and you took her in: worn sooty shoes, a dress that hung several inches over her ankle because she was taller than you but thinner so sharing dresses meant what you borrowed you was tight around the waist and what she borrowed- like this pretty chocolate-brown dress- had sleeves that hugged just below her bony elbows. Her lips, despite always being chewed up from constant worrying, were still thick and plump and, like everyone and everything, just a little dehydrated. Her eyes, big and brown and always warm, had recently taken on a pesky little shine that she refused to admit was due to a certain someone she’d started seeing.

As if she’d ever put so much effort into smoothing out her hair, before now. Even going so far as to tie Lucy Gray’s cerulean scarf like a bandanna, knotted at the base of her neck and weaving up to the top, her dreadlocks flowing to between her shoulder blades.

“I don’t care about them, I care about you. Who do you think the Peacebreakers will side with, the mayor’s daughter or some-“

“Some performers that you know they like more. You said, at the Reaping- they cared more about the mayor hitting Lucy Gray than about the snake that had bitten Mayfair.”

“Mayfair,” Barb Azure said firmly, “has too much influence. I know you’re hurting, and you want revenge, and that’s fine, that’s normal. It shows you love. But it’s not safe to do anything- not as long as, in the eyes of those who hold the guns, we’re not equals.” The underlying We never will be. didn’t need to be stated.

“Come on,” she said softly, “come now. Lucy Gray wouldn’t want you to get shot for this.”

“Don’t you? Aren’t you mad at me for- for not being supportive of whoever it is you’ve started seeing?”

“You’ve never been supportive of a couple in your life,” Barb Azure quipped, and you began to head back, arm-in-arm, “I honestly didn’t expect you to start now. You’re protective, and… and since I’m practically the mother of the group, it’s nice to have someone looking out for me. Really.”

And that was it, the last push to drag you back home, at least for now. That night- having seen her sing, alive but dehydrated and exhausted but alive, she’s alive - you curled up in your bed and smothered your face in your pillow and, for the first time since she’d been reaped, let yourself sob and shake and weep, because she was so hungry, so tired, and all the confidence you’d had that she might win had gone out like the most fickle of candles.

Clerk Carmine lays out breakfast- and a plate for Lucy Gray. Always, a plate for Lucy Gray. “It’s not like the nuts or bread will go bad,” he’d argue, when Tam Amber wanted to have a bite, “the Games should be over in what, a week? She’ll need plenty of food to recover.”

You liked babysitting Nathaniel, really. He was such a sweet boy, so excited, so full of life. Quick to burst into tears but quick to race and play, you always felt his head was a bobble head, and when he said the kids he played with made fun of him for having a big head you’d poke his cheek and tell him it’s because his brain is so big.

He says he’ll use his brain to invent a forcefield.

A forcefield for what, Nathan?

A forcefield to keep the Peacebreakers out!

You spend a good while finding long sticks, then pretend sword-fight with them, then use them to review his counting (he was capable of counting if he did it all in a row- 21, 22, 23- but had a very hard time counting from memory- what number is before 20? , for example, would take a little bit. But he was getting there, and quickly, too.)

It won’t be long before you can add, Nathaniel. I’m so proud of you.

When his father comes home, you’re extra nice, always telling him Nathan was very good and polite and smart and anything you could muster up to keep him from beating his son, which you know full well he does whenever, like today, he has a drunken little step to his feet. Maybe you’ll stay to serve him dinner, just to delay it longer.

Maybe you’ll take the long way home, just to have the time to slouch and frown before you get home and put on the mask, the same one you have to put on before Maude Ivory and CC of cheer and strength, a bright pillar, because it wasn’t fair to leave all the mothering to Barb Azure and all the responsibility on Tam Amber. The mask of semi-maturity had to be worn for Barb Azure because she got stressed if you were too serious about the things you wanted to do- the bad things. The mask of strength in front of everyone, even Tam Amber, who shared your burning loathing for the Capitol and the reaping and the Games, but before whom you couldn't be weak and pathetic- you could, technically. You know these people and they are good and kind and they’ll probably be okay with you acting like that, quite honestly they probably wouldn’t even think you pathetic and would probably appreciate your transparency. Probably.

But probably just isn’t worth the risk. You still felt guilt gnawing at you for those vile thoughts you’d had the night you’d all watched Lucy Gray’s performance. How dare you think poorly of them? Why do these thoughts, that you know full well you don’t mean or believe, intrude on you?

Nathaniel’s father shoves a meager payment into your palm, and is quick to usher you out: “You’ll be glad. Your pretty friend’s back.”

And you abandon any thought of taking the long route home and run and sprint until you’re back and there she is, there she is in the same rainbow dress, in all her songbird glory, and you’re pumping your legs and she sees you, mid-crouch to be eye-level with Maude Ivory, and a grin nearly splits her face and then she’s running too, and you’re not sure which one of you reaches the other first but you do, you finally do, and you’re flinging arms round each other and pulling each other in and she’s burying her head in your shoulder and you’re grasping fistfuls of the back of her dress, and she’s gasping sobs and you’re heaving “you’re alive you’re alive you’re alive.”

And then Barb Azure’s wrapping her long arms around her from behind and resting her head in the crook of her shoulder and Tam Amber engulfs you both, and drags Clerk Carmine in, and you grasp blindly for Maude Ivory and pull her in too.

Rather than celebrating with generous food or going to the Hob or catching up, the moment she enters the wooden home her eyes widen and she kneels and picks up a pillow- the same one you’d sobbed into a few nights ago. She kisses it all over until CC mumbled to save some kisses for the rest of us.

“A pillow,” she said breathlessly, “my head has touched nothing but metal and hay and rock since their pillow.”

“Hay?” Tam Amber said dubiously, “they treat you like barn animals?”

“At least animals are fed.” Lucy Gray mumbled, then cocooned herself in a blanket- despite the unforgiving heat, she burrowed into it. “All that rain, cold enough to kill the snakes. And nothing but this dress to warm me. Oh, I didn’t think I’d ever touch a blanket again.”

And touch it she did, running her hand over its weave and trailing her fingertips over it as tenderly, as reverently, as she did with her guitar. Finally, she lay down to sleep, and you all followed suit although it was just barley past sunset, and that morning while you all ate breakfast still she slept, and when CC and Maude Ivory went out to get water she slept and when you went to babysit and came back still she slept, catching up on the exhaustion of the past two weeks.

When she wakes up, you run a wooden comb through her hair while she talks animatedly of her time in the Capitol, cherry-picking the tiniest details to expound upon in great earnest but leaving out anything big that would normally be included. She doesn’t mention anyone she killed, the if or how, but she does describe the little girl who gave her food through the bars while a melted popsicle ran down her arm. She doesn’t tell you a thing about her time in the arena but she does tell you that she thinks Jessup and Lysistrata definitely had a little something-something going on. But then the mention of Jessup clams her up until you ask her to please teach you to pronounce Lysistrata and then she’s back, and so it goes. Any time she approaches a big or serious event, she quickly ricochets off it and clings instead to a minor, light-hearted detail.

Barb Azure comes in with a shallow well of golden, glistening olive oil.

“Oh no, I can’t-“ Lucy Gray begins.

“It’s barely enough for one slice of bread,” she says gently, placing it on the ground and sitting cross legged, “we won’t miss it, really.”

So she gives your fingers a rest from working through Lucy Gray’s knots and your wrists a break from tugging through her matted hair, dipping the wooden comb into the oil to help soothe and detangle and gently encouraging Lucy Gray to continue her story.

She tells you of the blonde you all saw on TV, that he smells like roses, that he was the only good thing in the Capitol. Barb Azure gives you a look as she massages the olive oil into Lucy Gray’s scalp, a we're not going to ruin this for her look, but you’re both thinking it: she speaks of him a little bit like she spoke of Billy Taupe. The analogy, the association, makes you dislike him all the more- just as someone who’d gotten food poisoning from a certain cheese never wants to eat it again.

Everyone goes about their day as normal: Lucy Gray, reunited with her beloved black guitar, seems to be normal too, or is trying very hard to be. When she sees the food Clerk Carmine had stored up for her, she insists you all divide it in equal portions and eat together.

She is preparing this lunch, and when you walk in to help, she swipes at you with the butter knife, which scratches your arm (but, being a butter knife,) you only utter a dull “ouch.”

“Sorry! I- I didn’t mean-“ she sets the butter knife down on the counter with a clatter, a bitter laugh, “once a killer, always a killer, I suppose. Can’t look Maude Ivory in the eye since I killed a girl scarcely older than her. Can’t look anyone in the eye, really.”

“Oh, Lucy Gray, you know full we won’t think less of you. You did what you had to do.” If the first time she’d mentioned anything she’d done in the arena took you by surprise, you didn’t let it show on your face.

“Sometimes I think, I know it’s selfish of me but I wonder, what was the point of surviving? Because Reaper, he was a better person than me. Taking the weapons out of each tribute’s hands and folding their arms and covering them with the Capitol flag to give them death with dignity, lining them up for some semblance of a funeral. He said he’d kill us but never killed anyone. I killed and he showed so much more kindness to the tributes than I did and he deserved to win- or Wovey, she was too young, she shouldn't have died! She should’ve gotten the chance to grow up and- and I stole that from her. From all of them. So sometimes I wonder why I bothered to survive.”

Tam Amber pushed the door open with Maude Ivory on his shoulders, holding two feathered hats they’d been retouching for this weekend's performance. “And then I see you all and I remember what I was fighting to come back to.”

You all mutually decide not to treat her like glass. Not to walk around eggshells, nor to pretend that nothing happened. To comfort her after nightmares and when she’s jumpy and flinched in a way she never has before or gets incredibly, inexplicably, panicked over a gnat bite on Barb Azure’s neck.

You’d almost never seen her panic before.

“Would it make you feel better if I killed two people?”

“What?”

“Just- oh, it should be three. That way mine will be worse than yours and you don’t have to feel so guilty anymore.”

“Sometimes I think I’ll understand it was for survival. Sometimes I think I’ll live with myself. Then I see Maude Ivory and she’s Wovey and I realize I’ll never, ever forgive myself for the blood on my hands. It won’t wash off. And… there’s actually a third kill I haven’t mentioned. I did it with a snake, just like I did with Mayfair.”

“Why- um- why haven’t you brought it up?”

“Well. My feelings for that one are complicated. I know I should feel burning guilt for Wovey and Reaper because they did nothing wrong, never lifted a hand against me. Though with Reaper it was a mercy kill, I still feel… and Treech… was trying to kill me, and since it was self-defense, I don’t think I know how guilty I should feel. It really was self-defense, so why do I feel…?”

You clasp your hands in both of hers: you need her to understand her hands are capable of more than killing. “You’re allowed to feel as intensely as you want, or not guilty if you prefer. Whatever you feel, every one of us loves you and missed you and will continue to love you and be so, so relieved to have you back.”

She tries for a smile, but it wobbles and breaks. Still. She’d talked about her time in the arena now more explicitly than she had since she’d gotten back, and that was a start: you can’t heal a bullet wound if you pretend it’s not there.

Outside, all grass and sunshine, Barb Azure sat Maude Ivory in her lap, braiding her hair, every girl having something to say about Lucy Gray’s mentor. “You do realize that’s what Peacebreakers do, right? They view us as primitive but exotic, that’s why you’ll hear of some Seam woman pregnant with a soldier’s child- they fetishize us, but they still don’t view as fully human-“

“I don’t think that was it,” Lucy Gray said thoughtfully, working her fingers to milk Shamus, “I think, you know, I think such a large part of it was winning the prize he gets as a mentor- meeting me on the platform just to get a leg up on his competition. That much was obvious. I can’t pinpoint when it changed, or how. Like how if you keep your eye on the sky, you can’t quite tell when it goes from late afternoon to early sunset, but it does it anyway.”

You held the dented bucket firmly below Shamus as she worked, keeping it steady.

(Once, a few months ago, it had been particularly windy and the bucket had blown over. You’d all cried over spilled milk that day.)

“It’s just all too convenient, don’t you think? That everything he did to help you just so happened to be the same things needed to get him the money? Even the fact that he stole for you or gave you that compact- is there anything he’s done purely for you? Any action, no matter how small, that he did just for your sake, no strings attached?”

“When he was hungry and he told me he once ate sticky paste-” she broke off, almost a chuckle but not quite, “I don’t think he’s like the others in the Capitol. He knows poverty, which is why he always snuck me food. He was ashamed of it, I could tell, he tried so hard to be confident and appear wealthy but he’s madly insecure. He didn’t have to tell me about his hunger, that day, but he did. He did.”

You resisted the urge to gag. The very fact that he was a mentor meant he was complicit in the Games, the very Games that kept Lucy Gray awake at night and jumpy during the day, though she tried so hard to conceal both.

“Well, he made you happy, which makes me happy!” Said Maude Ivory, admiring Barb Azure’s handiwork in the form of a newly-woven braid, sweeping it over her shoulder [2]. “You’re both making it too complicated. You were hungry and he brought you food, you were crying and he wiped away your tears. What else is there to say?”

You know she misses him, and the truth is, though you know she loves Covey, some part of you wonders if she wishes she could- could what? Have moved in with him, stayed with him? She wouldn’t do that, of courses, not even if the Capitol let her- but did she wish it?

But then again, CC misses his brother, and he’s staying here, too.

“People will be glad to have you back,” says Barb Azure, “our band just hadn’t been the same without you. But… are you sure you’re ready to perform?”

“Yes.” Lucy Gray says it with the most confidence she’s had since she’s come back, and rifles through the shared outfits to pick out a dress for the occasion. Clerk Carmine and Tam Amber wear their feathered hats, Maude Ivory bouncing on her heels. “In the Capitol, I sang to impress, to win people over, to convince me I was worth being alive. I want to perform for the sheer pleasure of it- and for the happiness it brings others, too. Black or green?”

“Green,” you all said in unison, and it was enough for Maude Ivory to giggle, for CC to break into peals of laughter, and the Covey house filled with enough light and laughter to make up for the absence of these two necessary things for the past month.

Barb Azure secured the drum round Maude Ivory’s neck while you sat Lucy Gray down, smearing greasy red balm on her lips and dusting rouge along her cheeks.

“You know you could be a makeup artist?”

You scoffed, smoothing her hair down and clipping a strand back. “There’s no such thing.”

“There is, in the Capitol, sweetheart. I know because the comedian who interviewed me- remember, the one who hosted me when I did that song you watched?- he had makeup and some powder in his hair. You could get paid to do this, you know.”

“Were there coal miners there?” Asked Maude Ivory, and now that she was all dressed, she sat on the dresser and swung her legs above the ground, impatiently signaling for you all to get on with the prep, too.

“No coal miners, dear, that’s what we’re here for.”

“Were there bands?” Asked Clerk Carmine, slipping on his black shoes (which were once Billy Taupe’s, when he was his age), the heels nearly peeling off.

“No bands. No music except for once, Coriolanus sang the anthem. That was it, though.”

“No music,” Barb Azure pondered, “maybe they’re the poor ones.”

Such a statement seemed to be the perfect one to tuck away between your rib cage, and you headed out to the Hob, which had already garnered quite the chattering, drunken crowd.

Backstage- if a blanket being the partition made it ‘backstage’- Maude Ivory went out to introduce the Covey as usual. Lucy Gray shut her eyes tight, the way one would before plunging into a very cold shower.

“Hear that?” You said gently, “All these people who missed you. All these people whose whole week is brightened just from hearing you.”

“But the last time I sang- snakes, there were so many snakes- I was singing but there were just so many of them, too many- hissing and slithering so fast, too fast- where could I run? How could I outrun them? They were nothing like my snakes here- I thought it would be my swan song-“

“But it wasn’t.” Tam Amber said, and it was so little that he said- but it was enough. Outside, cheers rang out, and Lucy Gray smoothed out her dress, tucked in a strand behind her hair- picked up her guitar, fire in her eyes, and stepped out onto the stage.

What you loved most about Performance is that everyone wore masks and then you didn’t have to feel guilty about your own. Lucy Gray was all sparkly, though you knew full well much of it was genuine, and Barb Azure’s shyness and Maude Ivory’s good cheer and everything else stayed just the same- but everyone was bigger, on stage, and brighter. When Lucy Gray gets a bottle and after she takes a swig of it, she passes it to you so her hands are free to play. You hold it with one hand, your colorful tambourine in the other.

(It wasn’t always colorful: Clerk Carmine had done the kindness of dying it for you.)

At some point Lucy Gray’s face shadowed with confusion then with raw elation, and you followed her gaze to a man who, quite frankly, looked as bland and simple as any other Peacebreaker around him.

But, no. As Lucy Gray declared this might be the greatest night of her life and went for another song, you watched him- yes, there was the smile, yes, for a moment he looked so besotted that you were convinced he was truly in love with her- but, what was that? You edged closer to the lip of the stage, needing so desperately to understand that look in his eyes- not quite hatred, but certainly not love. Almost like anger, but closer to desire…

Jealousy. You didn’t know what or why, but it was bare envy if you ever saw it- the disapproving curl of his lips, the stare that was no longer a yearning gaze but a glare. You’d seen it when Mayfair saw Lucy Gray and Billy Taupe together, had seen it back when your mother spoke of your neighbor’s wedding, had seen it most blatantly when Lucy Gray flirted and charmed and once even kissed the cheek of one of the audience- that flare of Billy Taupe’s nose was enough.

The same look the blonde-buzz cut man wore now.

But Lucy Gray was dazzling the crowd- of course, she was too busy to pause and study his facial expressions- so you would pull her aside during the upcoming duet of Tam Amber and Barb Azure, you’d go backstage and you’d tell her, because she was sharp and clever and she’d understand.

You are so focused on how to word it, how to describe it most accurately, that you don’t notice Billy Taupe’s entrance until he begins pleading to the Covey.

But you can’t focus on his entreaties- you keep your eyes on the blonde. Is he jealous of this, too? Or satisfied to see the rejection? Both?

Billy Taupe’s voice grates on your eyes, and you permit your eyes to wander over to Mayfair instead- ha! She wears the same face as the man, anger and jealousy which are both insecurity. Her hair is in a bun, her dress pretty and pressed and pink, and there it is, the hatred you’d been tending to well before the reaping- how you want to wring her neck, how you want to punish her and Billy Taupe for ruining Lucy Gray’s life- she may have survived, but she certainly has enough pain now, enough trauma, to last till the end of her days. And you fix your gaze on Billy Taupe and his drunken stupor and think how easy it would be, when he’s inebriated like this, to kill or at least severely injure him, too. He deserves it. She deserves it. Romance and love triangles are one thing, cheating and two-timing and sending Lucy Gray to near-certain death and sentencing her to a life of nightmares and flinching and guilt are another. It wouldn’t be fair for them to get away unscathed- it wouldn’t be just.

(Those words again? So deluded. Fairness, justice. You think you have the power to bring them forth?)

When the first punch flies, it’s you who pulls the plug and kills the lights.

—

Author notes: It wouldn't be right to write a story about oppression- the world tolerating and even encouraging the deaths of children- without acknowledging the genocide in Gaza right now. So, this is your reminder to email and/or call your representatives, sign a petition, donate, attend a protest, or reblog posts you see- to demand an end to the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. (If you have call anxiety, don't worry- it tends to go to voicemail. And if it doesn't, there's a script you can use). Refer to my pinned post for ways to help.

[1]- 'crisscross applesauce' is a colorful expression, one I can't see the Capitol ever using- so I thought the Covey might use it in tandem with their other phrases

[2] Maude Ivory wearing a braid over her shoulder is a nod to the theory that she's Katniss's grandmother

Let me know your thoughts in a reply! The story so far, currently six chapters, below

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